


Wild Angel

by DoraTLG



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 19. century England, AU - Muneca Brava a la 19. century England, Angst, Homophobia, Light BDSM, M/M, Q is barely 18, Slow Burn, Straight Sex, Victorian era, but not really, i guess, maybe not that light, plot heavy, remake of a telenovela
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2454917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoraTLG/pseuds/DoraTLG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>19. century England, Worcester. James Bond is a wealthy president of a building company, who is looking for a companion for his mother, who hasn't left her room in almost two years. Oliver is a young, rebellious orphan that needs a job, since he is eighteen and must leave the asylum. They crash - literally and figuratively. Now the question is - can a pretty little boy live with a wealthy pansexual? Can a dirty orphan live with a snobby upstart?</p><p> </p><p>„You have a mouth on you, boy,“ he said. The boy's eyes lit with fire.</p><p>„I'm not a boy!“</p><p>„Really? And what are you?“</p><p>„A hodehoy,“ said Oliver smugly.</p><p>„Hodehoy?“ James had to work hard not to laugh.</p><p>„Yes. A friend told me that. It's when you're not a boy and not a man. Something in between.“</p><p>„I think you mean a hobbadehoy. But I can confirm, you are not a boy and not a man. You look like a girl.“</p><p>He was ready for what came after – Oliver jumped on him – so he just grasped him tight and looked at Mathis while the boy fought in his arms.</p><p>„I wasn't serious about killing my mother,“ he said jokingly. Mathis actually looked terrified.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do you know Muñeca Brava? Well this is something very alike (and a biiiiit like My fair lady). I am just rewatching the telenovela and thought about how good would Q look instead of Natalia Oreiro (although Natalia is brutaly beautiful as Milagros). It won't have 270 chapters, don't worry, and it won't be full of intrigues and secrets and speculating about who is whose sibling, but few of the characters are similar to the Di Carlo family and... well, I'll probably write some situations from the telenovela into this story. I hope you will enjoy :*

This story happened too long ago to be truthful.

England was a beautiful country back then, although now we mostly see it dark and rainy in many stories. No, England is only dark in the night, and this story leaves nights for sleeping and days for living, days full of sun and green trees around the place that we'll visit. Solitude, the famous house of James Bond.

Worcester is not a big town and it wasn't in that time, either. Everyone knew who James Bond is, and with his power and charisma, they would probably still know him if he lived in the twenty first century. James Bond was the president of a building society called Six Million (don't ask, not even he knew what the name meant, it was picked by his mother) and one the wealthiest men in the country. He lead the family firm steadily into a bright future, employing half the town and earning himself love of almost every man living there. The other part wasn't that loving, though. James Bond had a secret that someone betrayed, and now he was respected as an employer, but not as a catholic. James Bond didn't want a wife.

But he wasn't the type of a man that would care much of his reputation. His business partners didn't care if he slept with a chicken, and if his workers wanted salaries, they had no other choice but to work silently. He had no illusions about their wives filling their heads with ideas, but if he was to face a strike or anything worse, the town would lose its money very quickly. He was the money.

It wasn't that he didn't like women, no, he liked them very much. But he liked EVERYONE, and that was a big problem in a small town like this. Once, he found himself attracted to a... person in the circus. Not a man and not a woman, they said. James thought that was fascinating. He wanted to know more. And he did, at the end.

So when James Bond stepped into the cathedral every Sunday evening, he found only disgusted looks of everyone praying.

He always found a silent corner and prayed. No one ever bothered him. No one wanted to speak with him. He prayed and then stood to leave, and somehow he would find father Mathis beside him. James donated money every month and was a great help to the Church and father Mathis never forgot to silently thank him with his presence.

„Father,“ James said when he saw him sitting next to him this time. They stood and walked together through the enormous church.

„James,“ father Mathis replied. „I hope your week was good.“

„Very much so, father. I hope the same for you.“

They walked under the mosaic windows and through colourful light changed by the pieces of glass. James knew the real sunlight has to be red by now.

„I need a favour, father,“ he said. „My mother is not well. She refuses to leave her rooms. It's been two years since she left the house the last time, and doesn't plan on doing it again. I thought maybe if she wasn't so alone, her health would strengthen. I am never at home and we would kill each other if I was. I know you have some children in the foster house that are almost grownups, maybe you could help me find... anyone, that would stand a stubborn woman like M is?“

Father looked at him and if James knew what X-ray is, he would definitely think of it.

„James, you know very well I let few young men join your firm every year. I trust you with caring of your employees. What I don't know is... if I can trust you with caring of a child that never saw another world than asylum.“

„That wouldn't be a problem, sir, I wouldn't be the one taking care of him or her. Mallory would.“

„You know that is not what I am concerned about.“

James stopped and father turned to face him.

„Father, you know very well... I wouldn't. I'm a catholic, sir. Taking advantage of a young orphan...“

„I know that God told us what not to do and you do it.“

They stared at each other for a few moments.

„Sir,“ James spoke again, this time more firmly. „God told us many things and I do them. I know people that steal or kill. I never stole, never killed, never raped. If you don't trust me, that's alright, but please, don't offend me. I would never take advantage of a child.“

 

They walked to the asylum just outside the cathedral – a big brick house, just as any other on the street. James knew it held few dozens of children of every age and that it was the only foster house in Worcestershire. The children were taken care of by nuns that lived in a near convent and loved the children as their own.

They walked to the second floor. The halls were empty, it was almost nine in the evening, children probably went sleep just a few minutes ago. They met a nun with young, although a little chubby face.

„Sister Marianne, where does Arthur sleep?“ asked father Mathis.

„Come, I will show you his room. Did he do anything again?“

They walked to a door at the end of the hall.

„No, he didn't do nothing. This gentleman has a job for him.“

They opened the door and found a room with three empty beds.

„Father...“ the nun started, confused. „I am so sorry. They must have ran through the window...“

„No worries, Marianne,“ Mathis looked tired. „I am sorry, James, it seems you cannot trust a seventeen year old boy to go to sleep if he's not tired. Could you please come tomorrow?“

„Of course, father. Is he like this all the time?“

„Like this? Oh, no, don't worry. He is actually an angel.“

 

 

James walked through the town, deciding if he wants to head straight home or stay at some bar and have a beer, and maybe something more, and maybe someone...

He went to his favorite pub, Tramps, and was surprised to find it so crowded. Well, good for him, it's better to hide in a crowded place than to drink one beer in an empty one. And he knew about few people that, if he met them, could go home with him.

He squeezed himself through the crowd to the bar and found out what the fuzz is about – two young prats were playing a drinking game and other pub visitors were cheering them. He forced his way to the front of the audition and watched as the two tried to outdrink the other one. They were both men – boys, really – one with blond hair and the other with messy black curls. James stopped his gaze on him. That was one hell of a boy. Slender and pale, dirty from the street, but with such energy, gleaming from his eyes and body, despite the fact he was heavily intoxicated. James' mouth watered.

The boy won. Surprisingly so, because James could see they both drank just something around five glasses of rum. James would need at least fifteen to lie down like the blond kid did, and around ten to twelve to walk like the messy haired one that just stood, took the money from the table and, hearing the ovations from his audience, headed James' direction. James didn't step away when the boy tried to walk around him and let him crash into him.

„Hey!“ he grasped his shoulders, trying to sound alarmed. „Look where you're going!“

The boy tossed himself around like a dying fish until James let him go, and then they just stood like that for a moment, the boy trying to keep his balance and James scanning his body. Maybe too slender for someone's liking, but James could manage.

„Whatcha lookin' at?!“ the boy barked out.

„Just looking for your tits, girl,“ James said. The boy got angry in a split of a second – he pushed him and quickly run away, pushing through the people. James had to laugh.

 

 

In the morning, he walked along Severn. Few tens of swans and some seagulls were swimming on the river, and little children were throwing them pieces of bread. The weather was pleasant, warm, sun was mild and people nice. He walked past them and went for the cathedral. Some parts of it were already starting to ruin, for example the gate he was entering. But the gardens were beautiful. James used to love it here as a kid and still loved it after years.

He found father Mathis in his sacristy and together they went to the asylum. This time, the room was full, and James was asked to stay at the hall so they had more privacy than in a room with two other boys. Even through the day, the halls were quiet. James was glad to know the children here were so disciplined.

The door opened and father Mathis, sister Marianne and a young boy stepped from the room. James looked at the messy black hair and slender figure.

„You?“ he asked, surprised. The boy frowned.

„Do I know you?“ he asked. He had a cheeky strike in everything he did.

„I don't think you could remember anything from last night, but let's say we met,“ James said, amused. „You almost fell onto me, didn't see hole in a ladder.“

The boy's face lost its colour and he looked at father Mathis. „This coosecap is off one's chump! I didn't do anything! Swear!“

„Oliver!“ sister Marianne abashed him. „If the gentleman says you were drunk, I am not surprised. Say your sorry.“

„No way. Gentleman, right,“ he looked at him arrogance that didn't suit a boy his position. „Gentleman of four oats.“

„Oliver...!“ this time it was father Mathis, but James stopped him with a hand in the air.

„You have a mouth on you, boy,“ he said. The boy's eyes lit with fire.

„I'm not a boy!“

„Really? And what are you?“

„A hodehoy,“ said Oliver smugly.

„Hodehoy?“ James had to work hard not to laugh.

„Yes. A friend told me that. It's when you're not a boy and not a man. Something in between.“

„I think you mean a hobbadehoy. But I can confirm, you are not a boy and not a man. You look like a girl.“

He was ready for what came after – Oliver jumped on him – so he just grasped him tight and looked at Mathis while the boy fought in his arms.

„I wasn't serious about killing my mother,“ he said jokingly. Mathis actually looked terrified.

„I am very sorry, James, I thought he could show you some intelligence. He is... he is temperamental, but not stupid – well, not most of the time. But I will find someone better...“

„No,“ James said. „I like him. I think M will like him, too,“ he let Oliver go. „You will work for me,“ he said and Oliver looked at father Mathis.

„What? But I will still live here, right?“

„No,“ Mathis said. „I am sorry, Oliver, but you must go away in a few weeks anyway. You'll be eighteen.“

The boy looked positively broken and for the first time, James felt sorry for him. An orphan, in an asylum, always encountering only children from the street, where would he learn an etiquette? He was feisty, yes, but that was likeable, in a way. James was curious what part of him was „angelic“.

„Fine,“ Oliver said and turned. „I'll go pack.“

He walked to his room and slammed the door.

„I am very sorry,“ Mathis said humbly. „He is out of his element. He tends to react this way to new people and situations. But once you know him, he can be a real...“

„Angel,“ James finished. „Yes, you said that. I'm looking forward to meeting that part of him.“


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I thought a bit about the plot and made up some good stuff, so this will be a bit plot heavy story. Oh, and I won't avoid my favorite BDSM themes (I really DID want to, though!) because these characters are just made to be psychologized in that way. Or maybe I just think of everyone in regards of BDSM dynamics. Sorry.
> 
> Btw, the story setting is in the town I live in now, Worcester, England, so I have pictures! I will post them, not now, it's late and I'm tired, but definitely sometimes. For now, here is google with its images:
> 
> Cathedral: https://c1.staticflickr.com/9/8447/7774813828_9c9b2f6a9d_z.jpg  
> This is actually what it looks like there, it's gorgeous: http://www.paradoxplace.com/Photo%20Pages/UK/Britain_Centre/Worcester_Cathedral/Worcester_Images/800/Choir-Oct05-DC5540sAR800.jpg  
> I really doubt Tramps was a bar back then, but I don't really go out, so... this is the only place I know by name :D so this is unaccurate, sorry: https://c2.staticflickr.com/8/7156/6571942435_cd3438fe25_z.jpg  
> This absolutely beautiful place is Solitude, the place "Bonds" live in, and it's fckng YMCA, guys, I'm done, I don't understand England, have you seen Tramps? That is a night club with a laser shows and student discos every day. Well, this beauty is hard to photograph: http://www.worcesternews.co.uk/resources/images/2760416.jpg?type=articleLandscape  
> http://s0.geograph.org.uk/photos/83/86/838699_bc56ed15.jpg  
> Anyway, the city is perfect, just google it. Enjoy the chapter!

The house was enormous. Oliver was never in a place like this. From the outside, it looked like a palace and from the inside it was even dreamier. The foyer was huge. Like... three times worth of the asylum. Just the ceiling was so high he barely saw it. There was so much space... he was afraid. Oliver was afraid.

That strange man was leading him through his large house – first they walked into a hall that was empty of furniture, but with beautiful walls full of ornaments and red brick and marble, and from there lead a huge staircase up and into smaller halls full of doors. Oliver never knew that walls could be so pretty. He watched the man in front of him curiously. He didn't remember meeting him in Tramps, but he barely remembered coming home – well, not home anymore. The man was captivating. Oliver was used to men that stared him down, talked to him like he was nothing, but they were mostly disgusted by him, a dirty little orphan. This man... he had a sort of light in his eyes and a smirk always playing in the corner of his mouth, like Oliver amused him. And Oliver felt something that he scolded himself for, that he used to feel for men and was taught is wrong. Father Mathis once told him he feels that way because he misses a father. Oliver couldn't understand, why doesn't he feel it towards women, since he missed a mother, too. But no one ever told him and he learned (the hard way) not to ask.

They walked into a door at the end of one hall. It turned out to be a kitchen – interestingly, a smaller one that they had at the asylum. An older woman was sitting in a chair at a big, dark table, going through peas. She looked up and smiled at the man, then looked at Oliver and her expression changed into curiosity.

„Good afternoon, sir,“ she looked at the man again. „Are you hungry?“

The man smiled fondly. „Patricia, I love how your biggest concern in this world seems to be my stomach. No, thank you, not yet, but I think you may start preparing lunch. I am looking for Gareth, do you know where he could be?“

„Oh, I think he is in Missis M's room, sir,“ Patricia said. „Your lunch will be ready in an hour, sir. Will you eat in the dining room?“

The man – Sir, apparently – looked at Oliver and then at Patricia again. „I don't think so. I will eat with M or alone.“

Patricia seemed to understand something and that something made her look sad. She just nodded and went back to her peas. Oliver followed the man out the door and into another room. He knocked, first, and after a woman's voice called, he opened them and they both walked in.

The room was bright, small and cosy. A single table was in the centre and various furnishing objects placed around – Oliver couldn't name them if he wanted. An old woman sat at the table, in a chair with a very high backrest. She looked sixty, maybe seventy, her hair was bright white and short, something Oliver linked with poor women that had to sell their hair, or sick ones. This women was neither. She radiated power and authority.

Next to her stood a man that had a ruler stuck through his arse up to his nape. He was dressed in plain black uniform with white gloves and looked to be about forty – forty five.

„Mother,“ the man said. The woman looked at him, didn't smile, didn't really change expression, just blinked once.

„James,“ she said in a matching manner. Oliver finally learned the man's name. It fitted him... it sounded handsome and powerful. He scolded himself again. „Who is that lowlife at your side?“

Oliver's head snapped up.

„I'm not a lowlife!“ he said, offended. „What do you think of yourself, you...?“

A hand landed on his mouth and one on his nape, and he ended up staring into James' hard – and OH, so blue – eyes. He gingerly shut up. James let him go.

„Well this is off to a good start,“ he said. „Good to know you understand each other. Mother, this boy will be your companion.“

The woman's eyebrows flew up on her forehead. „And why should that be?“

„Because I said so,“ he smiled widely. „You need some company. You've been closed here for too much time. Maybe he will entertain you.“

They all looked at Oliver, who was frowning, his jaw set in a strong line. That weird pal – Gareth, Oliver guessed – watched him with such a mix emotions that he couldn't even tell single one of them.

„If I say no?“ James' mother asked. James looked at her again.

„Well I'd like you to try. But Patricia would get a very serious command about giving you anything to read. I think that would make my offer for a companion irresistible.“

The woman's lips pouted slightly, giving her even more serious impression.

„If you had to let anyone into my room, it could have at least been someone educated. A nice girl, perhaps. Why this dirty man child?“

James looked at Oliver again, set in a quite good mood, it seemed, and at his mother.

„I like him.“ 

„Of course you do. Why didn't you hire him as your companion? Ach, yes, I see, that would probably make the whole city raise against you.“

„I don't understand what you all have with that,“ James played offended. „It's a kid, for Christ’s sake. So, should I go tell Patricia that your book shelf will be emptied, or will you talk to this boy?“

„I hate you, James Bond. I thought I raised you better.“

„No, M, you love how you raised me, you only hate the fact that now I can use my education on you. Gareth, please, I need to speak to you. Boy, stay here.“

James and Gareth left and Oliver stood there, with his dirty clothes and face and a little pack of things he owned, in this beautiful room. He felt lost.

„What is your name, boy?“ M asked. He looked up. 

„Oliver. Oliver Quatter.“

„Well, Oliver Quatter, I am M. You will address me as madam. Is that clear?“

„Yes.“

She waited. He sighed. „Yes, madam.“

„Very good,“ she said. „Where are you from, Oliver?“

„The asylum, madam,“ he said.

„You don't have parents?“

„No, madam. I am a bastard.“

She frowned. „Bastard is a word we don't use in this house. Why did my son hire you?“

„I don't know, madam. Ask him.“

She sighed, exasperated. „I think he wants me to die soon. Why else would he bring me a vulgar orphan without education?“

His cheeks burned again and he looked her right in the eyes for the first time. „Just because you're old and read book doesn't mean you are more than me!“ he spit out. M looked surprised.

„If you think that is all I do and that is all that makes a person educated, then yes, I think I AM more than you. I don't tolerate anyone speaking to me in such a manner. Now go away and wash. When you're done, come here again. We will talk. Seems that is the only thing I can do now.“

He grabbed his things tighter and, angry, stormed out of the room, just to run into a firm body right outside the door. He stepped away quickly. James looked at him and smiled a little at his pink cheeks.

„Boy...“

„Stop calling me boy, all right?“ he barked. „I have a name. Oliver Quatter.“

„I can't remember any of it,“ James said dismissively. „I'll just call you Q.“

„Q?!“

„Yes, Q. I like it better. Any problem with that?“

„Plenty problem!“ Oliver said angrily.

„Well, in that case, if you can tell me one grammatically correct sentence, I will maybe consider changing my mind. Until then, Q, Gareth will show you your room,“ he nodded in the direction of the man in black. „Now, if you excuse me, I have work to do.“

With that, he left. Oliver – Q, now – looked at Gareth, but the man was already turning at his polished heel and walking in the other direction. He rolled his eyes and followed him.

„So you're Gareth, ha?“ he asked. The man stopped and turned on him. Q almost fell into his chest.

„For you, it's mister Mallory. I am the butler in this house. That means you will obey every my order. Understood?“

„Absolutely, mister Stick in my arse,“ Q mumbled.

„What did you say?!“

„I said you have a stick up your arse! Something in your ears, too?“

Mallory stepped closer to him and that was when Q noticed the man was taller than him. Intimidating, actually. He liked it.

„Do you want to end up on the street?“ Mallory asked. Q actually didn't care that much, but he didn't say anything. „Then learn how to keep your mouth shut. This house is not an asylum. People here have class. To serve them, you have to gain class, too. Now follow me and if you utter one word, you will be sorry.“

Q wanted to say something. He really did. But he stayed silent as they walked farther into the house. He didn't know why, he had this thing for provoking authorities. But if he really wanted to provoke someone in this house, it was James... James Bond. Yes, he really wanted to provoke James Bond.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be full of homophobia, because of the setting. It's not because everyone would be a jerk, but because in that time in England homosexuality just wasn't taken very well (but this is before gay sex became illegal). Very unpleasant, but what can we do? Just hope that future generations won't repeat the same mistakes. But I like to think that in a few centuries, maybe thousands of years, something good will destroy christianity, just like christianity destroyed good religions. Before, they only killed animals and sometimes people once a year for their gods. Now they kill thousands.

Mallory lead Oliver to his new room. It was almost bigger than the one he lived in before, and he lived there with two other boys. Now he saw only two beds, one of them clearly used frequently, with a few things on a bedside table, like a hairbrush and a book. The room was empty, though.

„Stay here,“ Mallory said. „Unpack and don't touch anything that doesn't belong to you. That bed is yours,“ he pointed at the unused one. „I will send Eve here. Don't get any ideas, she is a woman, but won't tolerate any inappropriate behaviour. This will be your room for the first month and then, maybe, you get your own room. Understood?“

„Yes. Only one question. Would you maybe stop asking me if I understood simple sentences? It makes me think YOU have a problem understanding. You know, treat others as you would treat yourself...?“

Mallory's face darkened. „If you don't stop acting so disrespectfully, I will have you fired sooner than you can unpack. Und...“

„YES. Understood.“

After that, Mallory left. Oliver sat on his new bed. He wanted to curl into a ball, hide his insecurities, but knew the „woman“ will come and didn't want her to see him like that. This place was so foreign to him. And everyone seemed to hate him.

After a while, the door opened and a pretty woman came in. She had a dark skin and very curly, black hair, and Oliver couldn't help himself but stare. He almost never saw black people. He knew they worked at farms and in rich people's houses, but he never spoke to one, only saw them from a distance.

„Hello!“ the young woman smiled. „I'm Eve. You've met our dinosaur, Mallory. Don't let him get into your head, he is nicer than he looks.“

She sat on her bed, facing him.

„Are you OK?“ she asked when he didn't say anything.

„Yes, I'm... I'm sorry. I just... I've never...“

„Never what?“

He bit his lip before answering.

„Never spoke to a black person.“

She looked taken aback.

„We are just like white people. You speak to us in the same way. English, preferably.“

He nodded. „Yes, sorry. So... I'm Oliver. Oliver Quatter.“

„Hi, Oliver Quatter. Where are you from?“

„From here. From the asylum.“

She nods. „Well then, welcome in Solitude. You will like it here. If not, there is something seriously wrong with you.“

 

 

James Bond always dressed expensively and with a taste that suited his lifestyle. His favourite choice was a simple white shirt from the best quality cotton, black high waisted trousers and, when going out, a black jacket. He avoided colours and never wore a hat. He liked his clothes practical and a hat would keep falling off his head under many circumstances.

He valued his style, because it was a part of his life, of his new life. Years ago, M taught him how to dress and how to speak and how to use his brain when it looked he had none. But it didn't mean he became a snob and he never avoided manual labour or getting his hands dirty. He liked it. It reminded him of childhood, and although his childhood was never easy, sentiment was always welcome.

Now he switched his posh clothes for something more comfortable – the worst shirt he owned and a pair of very old, very stained trousers, and was laughing at Kincaid's jokes in the garden while pulling the carrots from soil and tossing them into a basket near his knees. Kincaid was the family's housekeeper and James' father figure – a big man looking like a poor Santa Claus, with his long white beard and a fat belly always entering the room before his feet, and with the most joyful eyes in Engand. His kingdom was his garden, and James loved helping him – last years mostly because Kincaid was getting too old for his job, but was too pride to ever admit it. And James liked dirt and keeping his body in shape.

Patricia - Kincaid's wife and the family's cook – brought them lunch in a basket, consisting of fresh, warm bread with marmelade and milk. They didn't get to it, though, let it aside and kept working. It was hard stopping them when they wanted to have something done.

Someone walked through the entrance from the street. James looked at the figure briefly and though the sun made it almost impossible to see his face, he immediately recognized him. The man came closer and waved in Kincaid's direction before uncuffling his shirt's sleeves and unbuttoning it so he could undress.

„Not that I don't appreciate the view,“ said James to his friend. „... but if you're getting naked, you could at least do it somewhere private.“

Alec hung his shirt on a near tree branch and crouched near James. „Those shows are very expensive if you're not a woman, James, I'm afraid, and not even you have the money to pay for one,“ he started to collect any bigger rocks and throw them under the nearest tree. James just laughed.

Alec was his friend for longer then he could remember. They grew up together. Alec didn't have any friends as a child, since he didn't speak English – he was a child of a circus family from Russia – and James taught him and helped him to his feet when his family abandoned him. Now, Alec was a salesman, not as rich as James, but quite successful one.

„You should write me a bill,“ James said after a while.

„A bill for what?“

„For seeing your show about a hundred times throughout our lives. I somehow remember you being naked in my presence so many times I actually forgot what you look like with your trousers on.“

„You are an idiot, do you know that, James? It took you a minute to think about a comeback.“

„I wanted you to feel comfortable, so I picked the time it takes you to climax.“

„Ha!“ Alec threw another handful of rocks away. „And how would you know that?“

James just smirked in that way of his that would anyone doubt their own sexuality, and Alec was about to tell him something really spicy when he saw Kincaid's face and quickly shut up. James looked at his old friend, too.

„Don't worry, Kincaid, nothing sinful, we are just joking. You can't take us seriously, you know that.“

Kincaid nodded, but the blush from his face didn't go away. He loved his boys and loved James almost as much as he loved his wife, but some things were hard for him to live with.

„I will go check on Patricia,“ he offered and quickly left. James watched him with a sad expression.

„They think what the others think of me,“ he said silently. „They just don't say it out loud and don't feel hatred or fear. But they think the same.“

Alec looked at him, wary. „You can't blame them. You do things... I think they fear for you. Pity you. For going to hell after someone in this town kills you.“

James turned his head and gazed at him sharply. „Maybe they fear for themselves. Who knows, where go people that don't stop sinners? Who live with them? I don't think heaven welcomes them.“

Alec just shrugged. „Well then hell will be open for us when it comes to it. It's good to know we won't be homeless. I would hate that. It wasn't fun the first time.“

James smiled sadly. His friend was right. He wouldn't like it in heaven. He just wasn't happy for dragging his entire family with him. And by family, he meant everyone who lived in his house.

„Oh, did I tell you? We have a new servant.“

Alec looked up with a hopeful spark in his eyes. „Is she pretty?“

„Nope. Since it's a boy. And I thought you liked Eve.“

„I more than like Eve, I would be willing to marry her if it meant everyday sex for the rest of our lives. But, you know... it's good to know there are options. So... a boy? Why?“

„Because I like him. No, not in that way. Although... ah, it's hard to like a dirty kid like him. But he reminds me of us in his age. Zero brain to mouth filter, a little ball of rage and swears.“

„You may have been a little ball, but I was always this big,“ Alec said, offended.

„I am sorry, I remember you as a scrawny little kid with spots who had to rely on MY power.“

„Yes, in your DREAMS!“

Their conversations always ended like this, and when they were finally done with the garden, they sat on the biggest rock and ate the bread.

„We should give Patricia some flowers,“ Alec said after having a mouthgasm. „Those roses look good.“

„If you value your life, never touched any flowers in this garden. Kincaid will kill you. But you can buy some the next time you visit. And don't forget to give some to your Eve, she always glows after you have sex with her. It's nice to look at her.“

„I will punch you, Bond, I really will.“

„By the way, what was the point of saving your shirt if you left your trousers on?“

Alec finished his bread. „You will lend me another pair. The shirt is new. And I'm staying for dinner.“

„As you wish, your majesty.“

 

 

Oliver knocked on M's door and entered. He had his training in this matter earlier – never enter a room without knocking. M was very persistent about teaching him good manners. He hated it.

He learned how to make a good tea, just like she liked it. And he was getting used to the fact he couldn't swear in her presence. Or in anyone's presence, but Eve didn't mind. Neither did Felix, another black man that drove James in a carriage when he needed. He was Eve's father, and he was really nice. Q liked how he cared for his horses and he allowed him to touch them and groom them.

The only thing he was really uncomfortable with was his uniform. He had to wear new trousers that he actually liked, but his shirt was biting him and the collar was too tight. He sat in the chair opposite to M and kept hooking a finger under the hem and pulling.

„Stop doing that, you will destroy the fabric!“ M chastised him sharply.

„That's what I WANT,“ he said grimly, but stopped his efforts. „It's so stiff!“

„Work hard enough and you can buy your own shirt. Now stop complaining and tell me something funny.“

„Funny?“

„Yes, funny! You are supposed to entertain me, and since we have nothing to talk about, I will have to do with dirty jokes or stories from your life.“

He frowned. „You could go out, that is entertaining.“

She pouted, disapprovingly. „I don't go out. There is nothing that would interest me.“

„How do you know if you never go there?“

„Tell me something funny or leave!“ she insisted. He sighed, crossed his arms and started with a story that came to his mind first – one that his friend told him. When he finished, M didn't smile, never laughed, but he could see she wasn't that bitter anymore. He supposed that was a win.

The door opened and James – boss, as he was to call him – entered. He looked like a god, Oliver thought for a moment, then scolded himself. But really, the man was dashing even in old clothes covered in dirt, with a sweaty face and red ears.

„You called for me?“ he asked M.

„I did, three hours ago.“

„I was in the garden. Anything important?“

„Yes. This boy is a catastrophe. I want you to take responsibility and teach him manners.“

They both went bug-eyed on her.

„What?!“ James asked.

„You hear me. I can teach him something, but you are a man, and therefore it is your responsibility to make a gentleman out of this child.“

„You think I have time for that?“

„You seem to have enough time to bath in mud, so I really think a few minutes a day won't bring our company to bankrupt. Or will it?“

They had some sort of eye-fight, which M seemed to have won. James sighed and rolled his eyes, but nodded.

„Tomorrow, after lunch,“ he addressed to Oliver.

Oliver was frowning constantly now. „No one will ask ME if I want to take any classes with HIM?“

M raised her eyebrows on him. „No.“


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo... sorry for anyone who likes Vesper. I personally HATE the shit out of her. So... yeah, my characters hate her too. But noooo, James Bond must like her, because he is a blind motherfucker... sorry, a bit of CR feels. I spend an hour every time I watch that film with shouting at either Bond or Vesper. See, I am very emotional about characters.  
> By the way, if I ever insult anyone, I am VERY sorry. This story is written in a century that was very insulting to people, and I have to write it like it probably could have been - racist, homophobic, not nice. So... please, don't hate me for what my characters sometimes say or do.  
> (I ANNOUNCE MY DEEP LOVE FOR ALEC)

Solitude was one of the largest buildings in Worcester. It could host families, tens of people, and currently, it only held eight. That left the family more space that they needed, with M closed in her rooms and James never being in his, anyway.

The larger part of the house was the domicile of James' firm. He spent his days there, sometimes his nights, drowning in papers, letters, sketches, working his arse off. Sometimes he visited the constructions he was working on, but he trusted his workers enough not to watch their every move. This side of Solitude was full of people that worked for him and were happy to do what he couldn't – visit sites, supervise teams... he relied on his employees. Today, such a trust would be probably betrayed.

His office was a beautiful room with a high ceiling and huge windows – he inherited it from his father, the former owner of the company. He shared this firm with his brother, an older man who James loved more than anything, more than Alec, more than anyone he had ever in his bed. Bill „Tanner“ Bond was a great man and James would like to remember him as he was in his youth, but sadly, he couldn't forget him in the years that preceded his death. Bill fell in love with a servant from their house, Severine, and planned to marry her – and not just because she was pregnant by the time he told his family about it. The only problem was their father. He would never let a servant girl to be the wife of the future owner of his company. And when M, accompanied by James and Bill, went to London on a business trip, Severine disappeared.

Bill broke down. He was never the same, never smiled the way he used to. And two years ago, he died, not even trying to fight his tuberculosis. That's when M shut herself in her rooms. That's when James became the only owner of the company. That's when his life became one tedious, miserable mess.

The door to his office opened and his secretary stepped in. She has the highest class he ever saw in any secretary – and the brightest brain, sometimes he believed she could lead the company instead of him. Of course, that was impossible, she was a woman and although there were women like M, ale to swipe men from their feet, they could never own a business. James sometimes thought about this fact and tried to find any logic in it. M would be better in his position and no man could ever be a rival to her.

The brunette stood at his table in her tight corset dress, with brown locks kempted up in a complicated fashion. She had piercing brown eyes and face that radiated intelligence and power. James was drowned to her the first moment he ever saw her. She was his match. She talked back. She thought. She fought.

„Vesper,“ he smiled at her, leaning back in his chair. She handed him a paper.

„This came in the mail,“ she said matter of factly. „Should I reply or do you want to do it?“

He quickly read the document, then placed it on his table.

„I will write an answer and give it to you first thing in the morning.“

She stepped closer to his chair, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning so she could speak to his ear.

„Will that be the first thing you will give me in the morning?“ she whispered. James' lips twitched and he reached for her lover back and pulled her closer to his chest.

„That depends,“ he said while pulling at the ribbon that kept her breasts clothed. “What will you give me this night?”

She smacked his hand and stood up. „Not in the work, mister Bond.”

James followed her example and stood to gather all his things. „Well then it's time for me to call it a day!”

„Not for me,” she stopped his enthusiasm. „I still have work to do.”

He sighed, but nodded and on his way out hugged her the last time. „Alright then. I will wait for you. With a dinner. Do you like that idea?“

„It's not repulsing,“ she admitted. „But only if Alec won't be there.“

„I will kick him out the second I see him.“

 

 

James walked into the kitchen to find Kincade at the table, slurping soup through the forest on his face, and Patricia happily chatting with him, or more at him, while stirring something in a big pot on the stove.

„Good evening, James!“ Kincade greeted him with his deep voice when he saw him. James just smiled and sat opposite to him.

„How are you two?“ he asked. Patricia turned at him with a huge, motherly smile. „A always, sir, you know nothing changes around here. At least not for us. Are you hungry? Dinner will be ready in no time!“

„To be honest, I really am. But I will have to wait. Is there enough? Vesper will come over.“

Patricia's smile frozen for a moment, but she quickly recovered. „Yes, of course. Miss doesn't eat much, it should be enough.“

„I will eat anything you have here and then just symbolically dine with her, don't worry. I can do with a piece of bread and that lovely marmelade you made last autumn.“

He went to look for his dinner despite Patricia's protests that he doesn't have to and that they have enough food to feed a regiment. He was hungry for something simple. When he had it – just what he wanted, bread and jam – he sat on his chair again and began to eat.

„Is Alec here?“ he asked. Kincade nodded and finished his soup.

„Probably in his room. I haven't seen Eve for over an hour, so I guess...“

„Yeah, I can imagine what is going on in that room,“ James laughed. „And the kid?“

„Oliver?“ Patricia asked. „He is with madam. They always talk at this time.“

„How is he doing?“

„I think he likes it here,“ Patricia smiled and James heard a motherly tone in her speech. He knew that tone, she used it on almost every new soul in this house – Eve, Alec, now Q... but not Vesper, no. For some reason, she didn't like Vesper, just as Alec didn't, and because of Alec, Eve wasn't eager to serve her either. James didn't understand it – he thought very highly of Vesper. He could imagine that woman to be his wife.

„And my mother? Does she like him?“

„Actually, I think she does,“ Kincade said with a smile hidden in his moustache. „And the boy likes her. I would never believe if I didn't see it on my own two eyes, but they did find a way to each other.“

James smiled, amused. The boy actually melted M's cold heart. Maybe that was all she needed – a bit of rough, vulgar behaviour she could stamp on, someone to shape and to fight with.

The kitchen door opened and Q walked in. James almost spit out his mouthful. The boy was dressed in a uniform – nothing much, just a shirt that showed how slender he was, and trousers hugging his hips, but the change hit James in places... well, not appropriate places. His hair was still messy, curly and dark, and now that his face was clean, his eyes shined green under dark brows. When the boy spotted him, he froze on spot and his cheeks turned red. James lavished in that sight. The boy was intimidated by him. Maybe because he hasn't seen him since the day he left the orphanage.

Q tried to speak, but couldn't find the words. After a while, he finally found some.

„Madam wanted to speak with you, sir,“ he said. James' eyebrows shot into the sky.

„Did you just call me „sir“?“ he asked, surprised. Q's cheeks flushed even brighter red.

„Well didn't my evening just get better!“ James laughed and stood up to leave the room. Q quickly stepped to side to clear the space. James gave him a long glance before he left the kitchen.

M was sitting by her little table, drinking her evening tea. When she saw him, she looked a bit shocked.

„Well that was quick,“ she put the cup down. „I didn't want the boy to run for you into your office.“

„I finished early today. Did you want something important?“ he sat opposite to her.

„No, just hoped you could see me when you come home. You didn't do anything about the boy's education.“

He sighed tiredly. „I really don't have time to educate an orphan...“

„That is strange!“ M interrupted him. „No one in this family had time for another uneducated orphan when he showed on our door step, and here you are, educated and, mind I say, doing quite well.“

He cast her a bitter look.

„You know that's not how I meant it. But what should I do? What can I do what you can't?“

„You are a man. Teach him what a gentleman needs to know.“

„I am sorry, M, but he doesn't seem to me very likely to be a gentleman, or to have a reason to be one.“

„That boy is bright, James.“

„And you want him to be what? My... successor?“

She looked like she actually considering it.

„You have no children, James...“

„I'm not that old yet, M. Actually, right now, I should be preparing for a visit from Vesper and if you ask me...“

„Oh, no, not that bitch,“ M waved that idea off with a disapproving twist of lips. James threw his hands into air.

„Is there anyone in this house who likes her?“

„No,“ she said simply but firmly. „Anyway, it does not matter WHAT Oliver will be. For now, I want him to be a well mannered young man and for that I need your help. In this next week I want you to find at least an hour for him. Now you can go and enjoy the company of that...“

„Lovely young lady that you should like, since she is the second most brilliant woman I've ever met,“ he stood up. „The first is Eve, not you.“

„Of course, only those who had intercourse with you are bright enough to make it to the list.“

„Please let's not go to that image,“ he half joked and with last smile left the room.

 

„Alec?“

„Hm?“

He turned to find big brown eyes staring at him. Her skin contrasted with white sheets and her hair asked to be petted. She raised her hand and touched the scarred skin on the right side of his face. He closed his eyes under the touch.

„What happened?“ she asked. He wondered how long it took her to ask that question – how long did it bite her until she finally found the courage?

„I never told you how I ended up in here, did I?“ he asked her. She shook her head. It draw his attention to her hair again. It was so strange and so beautiful. He never saw such curls before on anyone – black women normaly covered their hair.

„I came to England with in a ship. My family was in a circus. I was... about seven years old when we landed. By the time we got to Worcester, eight. And that was when our circus was attacked. Some people don't like strange things, things they don't understand. They set our tents on fire. I was... I was burned.“

She stroked his face tenderly. He smiled at her sadly.

„My family left quickly. They never looked for me. I don't know if they knew I survived... they just packed their things and left with the circus. And I... I stayed here. Fortunately, I made friends with James and Bill and knew there is someone who could help me – and they did. This family took me as their own – well, maybe not old mister Bond, but others did.“

Eve kissed him. Her lips were soft and loving and he thanked God he had such a luck, because he could the love seeping from the woman. And the love that sprouted in his heart.

Someone knocked at the door.

„If you're having sex,“ they heard James' voice. „Carry on, I have nothing against a show.“

After that, the door opened and James peered inside. „Pity,“ he said when he saw that they were in bed, but covered by a sheet. „Alec, get out or stay in the room, but don't show your face anywhere for another twelve hours. Vesper is coming over.“

„Don't worry,“ Alec smiled sweetly. „There is nothing I love less that that bitch's face. I have no intentions to see it.“

James rolled his eyes. „I have to hire someone who will like her.“

„Good luck with that. Are you sure you have enough money?“

„Fuck off. Good night. Eve, why is he the only one getting you into bed?“

„Because I like his bed more than I liked yours,“ she smiled at him. He just shrugged and closed the door.

Alec hugged her tiny waist and pulled her closer to him.

„Try to change beds,“ he mocked her. „Just try, and the owner will die.“

„Even if it's James?“

He considered that for a moment.

„He will be very sorry.“

 

James knocked at another door and stepped in without waiting. Q sat on his bed with a piece of paper and a short pencil between his fingers. He looked up and his reaction was very similar to the one he had just a few minutes ago in the kitchen.

„Tomorrow evening, my rooms. I will teach you etiquette. Thank to my mother.“

And he closed the door. Q looked at the sheet on his knees. The man that just spoke to him was looking at him from the paper.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, seems this story will NOT be as bright as I wanted it to be. I should change the first part of the first chapter. Not that sunny.  
> Sorry, but a gay romance in the 19. century? What did I think? That unicorns will jump over the rainbow in their backyard?
> 
> (btw, I found out something IMPOSSIBLY genial. Guess what building became an orphanage at the end of the 19. century? Yop, today's YMCA! And if you remember that is the building where Solitude is set. Fascinating!)

James leaned against the headboard of his bed. The cold wood was a nice change after hot covers, so he pressed his back and arms to it, watching Vesper get dressed. He felt a sadistic joy every time she had to put on her corset. She would never put on normal dress. Corset meant class. He thought it was funny.

„I'll be late today,“ he said when she finally tightened the laces on her front. Vesper just raised her eyebrows.

„Why?“

„Because I said so.“

She gave him a sceptic look. „Do you really think you can brush me off with that?“

James stood up, circled the bed and kissed her.

„No. I just had to say something or it would be awkward.“

And then he went to the closet and started dressing.

„You are not going to tell me why you won't be in the office on time?“ she asked, offended. James pulled on his underpants and while tying the laces, looked at her. Vesper was stepping into her dress, so he walked over to her and helped her with those tens of buttons tailing from her stomach to her collar.

„There are some issues I have to sort out with the servants. It shouldn't last longer than one hour.“

She didn't look convinced, but stopped pressing the subject. Someone knocked on the door. James stepped away from her and to the closet, pulling out his trousers and a shirt.

„Come in!“ he called out. The door opened and Oliver stepped in. He quickly assessed the situation, still looking sheepish and embarrassed, but James could see he understood what happened in the room. His cheeks turned pink. James had to hide his smirk.

„If you don't mind, Vesper,“ he turned on his secretary. „If you want me in the office this morning, I need to start now.“

She looked insulted, but left, her dress moving in the rhythm of her steps. She passed Oliver with a supercilious expression. When she was out of the door, he closed it and looked at the wooden floor, refusing to eye James' naked torso.

„Sit down,“ James motioned to his messy bed. Oliver did, just at the edge of it, as if not to touch any of the covers.

James pulled on his trousers and was just buttoning them up. They covered his lower back and the little path of blond hair that went to his underpants, reaching just to his belly button.

„My mother wants me to teach you etiquette. I can't see the point in it, but since she can be very persistent and I don't have the time to fight with her, I will try,“ he looked at the boy. „Q, do you have a problem to look at people when they speak to you?“

Oliver involuntarily raised his eyes to look at his boss and his breath caught in his throat. He expected him to look good, but wasn't in the slightest ready to see the god that James Bond was. His masculinity was normally covered by his clothes, but now he could see every muscle, and Oliver has never seen anyone with such a body. His friends in the orphanage were mostly thin and some had muscles, but they looked so much different than a grown man, with his tanned skin and... and many od scars. Where did they come from?

He had to fight himself very hard to tear his eyes from his chest to look at his face, and regretted it immediately, when he saw the smug smile playing in the corner of James' mouth.

„It seems you can't concentrate even on simple information today... what will you do when I start teaching you things?“

Oliver suddenly jumped out of the bed and his eyes lit with flame.

„I'm fine!“ he said firmly. „And I don't need your help.“

„Really?“ James walked closer to him. Oliver backed away, but James didn't give him the opportunity to escape, and soon Oliver's back was pressed to a dresser and James was ten centimetres from him, looking down at him.

„Why are you so nervous?“ he asked. Oliver's gaze kept sliding to his lips and neck, but he always quickly looked him into eyes. Which didn't help. His eyes were hypnotizing. „Are you attracted to me, Q?“

„NO!“ Oliver tried to slip from him, but James stopped him with both hands at his sides, gripping the dresser. He leaned even closer to him, but his playful expression changed into a tight mask.

„I will teach you how to act. And after I do, you will know that talking back to your boss is unacceptable.“

„Then I don't want you to teach me!“ said Oliver stubbornly.

„How unfortunate that you don't have any saying in this.“

James stepped even closer to the boy. Now their chests almost touched. Oliver had a hard time breathing.

„If you want to stay a primitive galgan, that's your choice, but you will have to go and tell that to my mother.“

He let his hands slide from the dresser, but didn't step away. Oliver considered running away, but he knew what M would say. And James would probably just kick him from the house after that. So he just resigned and looked down. That did not help, since James was so close he was left staring at his naked stomach. He quickly raised his eyes to James' face.

„I thought so,“ James said. He cocked his to one side, revelling in the sight of the absolutely frustrated boy. „Still so nervous... would it help if I dressed properly?“

Oliver gulped and wanted to say something, but he was trapped – if he said yes, that would mean he admitted what influence James' nakedness had on him. If he said no, who knows what would James do... the older man only laughed at his confusion. Then he stepped away and turned, pulling his shirt on.

„Don't worry. You're too young for me.“

Oliver's heart sunk. He was surprised at the dull pain that filled his chest. He knew there is something drawing him to this man, but he never imagined he could feel this way only because... because what? Did he want something to happen? Did he want this man to... touch him? Do things to him?

Yes.

Oh god yes. He could refuse to admit it for the rest of his life, but he DID want James Bond to do everything and ANYTHING to him. And that made him want to throw up. Because it was wrong. So wrong... was he a sinner? Was he possessed by the devil? Did God hate him? Will he go to hell?

„Sit down,“ James said, but Oliver didn't hear him. His heart was racing and he felt sick.

„Q!“ James walked to the boy – this time completely dressed – and took his chin into his hand. „Are you alright?“

Oliver's breath got stuck in his lungs. His eyes started water.

„Q, what's wrong? Tell me!“

He couldn't tell him. How could he? How could he admit that he... liked him? A man? His boss? A MAN? He had no words, no way of explaining and he was drawing.

„Q, are you sick? You are shaking, just finally tell me...“

„I am an abomination!“ he cried out. James blinked.

„What?“

„I am...“ Oliver looked at him and his breath finally caught him up. He started to hyperventilate. A panic attack. „I am going to hell. I will go to hell!“

James blinked again and this time his face relaxed. He understood. His other palm joined the first and he hugged Oliver's face.

„Listen to me, Q. Oliver,“ he forced him to look into his eyes. „Listen to me. You are not going to hell.“

Oliver tried to shake his head, but James didn't let him.

„Father Mathis...“

„Father Mathis would never tell you something like this. I know that man. He would tell you the exact same thing.“

„You don't understand...“

„Yes, I do. You think you are damned because of how you feel around me. You think you are against God.“

„Am I not?!“ Oliver insisted. James shook his head.

„No, you are not. Come on. Sit down.“

He lead him to the bed and they both sat down. Oliver wanted to hide his face in his hands, but James caught them and pulled them to his lap. Oliver curled them into fists.

„Look at me,“ James waited until Oliver looked him in the eyes again. „I know they told you that liking men is a sin, but I can tell you it's not.“

„How could you know?“ Oliver asked weakly.

„How could anyone who told you something else know?“

„Because... because father Mathis... he is a priest.“

„Did he ever tell you it's wrong to like men?“

„He told us all... in the church... that the bible...“

„The bible says very many things that are not true, Oliver. And you know why? Because it was written by men. And men can't know what God thinks. I believe God wants us to love. And it doesn't matter who we love. As long as we don't hurt, we are all God's sheep. You are not hurting anyone by liking me. Do you understand?“

Oliver looked at him and nodded, but he wasn't convinced. James let his hands be.

„You can go now. Come here tomorrow morning. We will continue.“

Oliver nodded again and left with his head bowed down. He run to his room and when he walked in, he found Eve, enjoying her first break in the day in her bed with a book. When he saw him, she put the book away.

„Oliver, are you alright?“

He shook his head and new tears begun to form in his eyes. He walked to his bed and sat down.

„Did mister Bond do something to you?“

He shook his head again. Eve sat next to him. He wanted to push her away, but couldn't – he ended up hugging her, crying into her uniform. Eve hugged him.

„What is going on, Oli?“ she asked softly. He didn't tell. Not that day. They stayed like this for a while and then, when he had no tears to cry, he steeled himself and told her everything is alright.

M asked him why his eyes are red, but he didn't tell. Patricia tried to ask him, but he didn't tell. He didn't eat. He didn't talk the whole day.

Something dark and scary was inside of him and he was afraid James wasn't right. Because he could feel it. He could feel the black spot on his soul. He was unclear. Maybe if he did something with his boss, his whole soul would turn black.

Depression is so easy to find and so hard to forget.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to write about Christians in Victorian England. I am an agnostic hating the Church. It's my absolutely first time writing about Christians EVER, I hope I'm doing it right. Sorry, but I can't imagine anyone as progressive as M and James are :D so that is a bit off. And... WOW, that is a SLOW burn. And you have no idea how slow it will be. Sorry for all that chatting, I fall into my Chekhov mode - my high school teacher of theatre history called it Session by the samovar. Endless talking. But there WILL be plot and it will be interesting, don't worry!

The town was getting colder every day. September was replaced by October and then November, and now the first snowflakes were flying in the air. Oliver sat by the window in the kitchen and watched the garden getting white.

„What are you thinking about, Oliver?“ Patricia asked friendly. She liked the boy. He was a gentle and fragile creature, although very hurt and closed in himself, and he fought with the world by hiding his true self under layers of aggression. But once he became relaxed and didn't expect you to attack him, he could be a real sweetheart.

„Nothing,“ he said silently. „Just... my family.“

She stopped kneading the dough on the counter for a while, trying to find something to say.

„Do you often think of them?“ she asked after a while.

„No,“ he shook his head and jumped off the window sill. „I'll go to my room.“

„No, wait!“ she stopped him on his way to the door. „Sit down. You can stay, I won't talk about them. Alright?“

He relaxed his shoulders and nodded. While he sat down by the table, Patricia cleaned her hands and made him tea.

„I should go serve tea to M,“ he said, but Patricia just shook her head.

„Madam needs strong coffee today,“ she said. „Tea isn't enough.“

„Why?“ he frowned, puzzled. M never drank coffee, unless never since he's been in the house.

„That... that is a question I shouldn't answer. And don't ask her. It's a sensitive issue.“

He just shrugged and looked out of the window again. He had his own problems now. Well, not problems. Thoughts. He had always problems concentrating on the fourth of November.

The door opened and James Bond walked in, but Oliver didn't even notice him, so deep in his mind. Not until he started to talk and his rich baritone.

He raised his head to see the man walk around the kitchen, talking to Patricia, smiling and being all charming, and his heart stung even more. He spent every third day in his room, learning all the different and difficult phrases and moves and ways how to be a gentleman, and he saw no reason in it, just as James didn't. Every morning he came to his room to suffer another hour of hurting chest and sinking heart and was met with a man he couldn't even look at. He didn't understand his feelings and he didn't understand Bond, because that man was a walking puzzle – once sensitive and nice, then a complete dick. And he couldn't bring himself to hate him even in those times when he should have hated him – the right opposite, in fact. He loved those moments in some weird, twisted way.

„By the way, happy birthday, Q.“

Oliver raised his head, surprised, and stared at James, opening the door to leave.

„Oh, it is your birthday?!“ he heard Patricia behind him. He just stared at Bond.

„How did you know?“ he asked. James just shrugged.

„Father Mathis gave me your papers. I should know when my staff is turning eighteen.“

And he left. Oliver sat there, staring at the door, and his chest was trying to kill him, in once second lig as a bird and in the next heavy as a rock falling off a cliff.

„You should have told me it's your birthday!“ Patricia kept chirping in the background. „Now I understand why you are so lost in your mind! Don't be, this should be a happy day!“

Oliver stood up and started to make the coffee frantically.

„What is wrong?“ she asked him. He just shook his head.

„I'm sorry, Patricia, I can't just sit here. I'll serve M her coffee and... and then I'll come back,“ but he didn't plan on coming back, he planned on closing himself in the most abandoned, quite and dark room of this house and crying. Because this was the day he was supposed to be with his family, his mother and father and who knows who else, and not wondering why they left him, why his life consist of serving tea and why is he so damn emotional, he's an eighteen year old man that should not have any emotions, he should be strong and not miss his mommy. No one else did. He was pathetic.

He took the tray full of dishes and went out to the hall. He knocked on the door to M's room and when there was no answer, he walked in.

M wasn't in the front room. The little foyer was empty, only the tray from this morning – still untouched – was sitting on the table, the curtains closed, everything quite. He would probably just let the tray be and leave any other day, but today, he didn't even think, he was too numb to reason. That was why he went to the other door and knocked.

He heard M's voice - couldn't be bothered by WHAT exactly it said, so he just opened the door, pushed it with his back and walked in.

She was sitting in her bed, still in her night gown, frowning like the bitch she could sometimes be. He just put the tray on one of stools that were in the room and wanted to leave when her piercing voice reached his mind.

„Oliver!“

He looked at her and realised she's been probably calling him the whole time.

„What is wrong with you, Oliver?“ she asked him in that firm, strict way of hers. He just shook his head.

„Nothing,“ he said and turned to leave.

„Sit down, now,“ she said and shifted in her pillowed nest. He pushed away te urge to close his eyes and found a stool to sit on, close enough to her bed that it would still look like a conversation and not just two people talking to themselves in one room.

„Tell me what is wrong with you,“ she asked. He mentally put on his armour.

„Why don't you tell me why are you closed here today?“ he asked, but it sounded more like an attack. She raised her chin and set her lips in a straight line.

„Alright,“ she said after a while. „I will tell you what is wrong with me and you will tell me what is wrong with you.“

Oliver had enough energy in him to be surprised. He looked at M and listened, although rather because of the feeling of triumph than out of curiosity.

„Today,“ M started and her voice showed effort to sound strong. „... is the day of my son's death.“

Oliver frowned, puzzled.

„But...“

„No, not James. I had another son, Bill. He was... he was older and... and he was supposed to take the company after his father's death. And he did, but he wasn't in the position for long. He couldn't... he couldn't take his mind off... ah,“ she sighed deeply. „You should know the whole story to understand. Bill was in love once. He was young and the girl was a servant. In that time, my husband was against any relationships with the servants, and he made the girl disappear. Her... and the child she was expecting. Bill was trying to fight against his sadness for years, but two years ago he... he killed himself.“

Her voice broke and her head bowed down. Oliver looked away. He never saw her get this emotional – angry, yes, disappointed, annoyed, but never on the verge of crying. Apparently, losing someone from your family was really painful. He didn't know. He never lost anyone, and certainly not a family member. Well, not since he remembered. 

„Now you,“ she said, again pulled together. He cringed.

„It's nothing. I just think of my family.“

„That can't be it, you look like a ghost. And although you've been very silent these last weeks, never like this. What is it?“

He took a deep breath.

„It's my birthday.“

„Oh.“

He looked at her and saw an expression of understanding. She didn't look at him as if he was crazy, she actually looked genuinely sorry.

„It's stupid,“ he said. „I should be a grown man and I still feel sorry for myself. I still... miss what could have been.“

„It's not stupid,“ she said. „I am a very old woman and I still feel sorry for myself, for what could have been, for what never was and for what was, and I miss my family. I still miss my mother. Missing our family is normal. Even people that hurt you.“

He looked at her and tried to ask a very personal question, hoping she won't get mad and kick him out.

„Do you miss your husband?“

She considered it for a moment.

„That is a very complex question. I... don't miss the man who died. Not even the one who lived. Who I miss is... the man I thought I loved. An ideal. I loved him more than anything in this world and realising who he actually was... that was one of the hardest falls of my life. And for many years I actually wanted him to die. I never quite made my peace with him. I transformed my love into hatred and that is a terrible thing to do, because the love is still somewhere there and is confused. My love for him never had the time to die. And it still lives and tries to take the better of me.“

She looked at him.

„You probably don't understand.“

He frowned. „No, I do. I never felt what you feel, because I never lost anyone from my family, but I can understand it. Love is... I never loved, but I know it is strong and complicated.“

„What do you mean you've never loved? You must have loved.“

He shrugged. „I don't know. I didn't have a family, so how could I love? And I never loved a girl...“

„Didn't you have anyone in the home that you would like? Anyone that you missed when you came here?“

He shrugged again.

„Yes, I missed many people. I missed my friends and nuns and father Mathis... but that... that's not love, is it?“

„Of course that is love. Love can be strong or weak. Mild. You can love anyone, not just a girl that you want to marry.“

„But... but not love in... THAT way, right?“

„If you mean... if you can love ONLY a girl... well, people say different things. I say that love is never bad and the other things you want to do with those you love... well, who does it any wrong?“

Oliver frowned again.

„Are you saying... but father Mathis...“

„People say different things, Oliver. But what are we, sheep, to follow other's opinions?“

„We are God's sheep.“

„And did God ever tell you his opinion?“

He stopped mid-thought and just stared at her.

„Your son told me the same thing,“ he said. She raised her eyebrows.

„Well it seems he is never tired of teaching these things. Since I was not the one who taught him this. He did teach me.“

Oliver didn't know if that meant it was all just James' opinion that he should not follow, or if it was a good thing that such an intelligent woman as M herself believed it. 

There was a knock on the door and they both jumped. The door opened and James walked in, then stopped, looking at Oliver, M and back at Oliver.

„Should I leave?“ he asked. M shook her head, but Oliver was already on his feet.

„No, I'll go!“ he said with his head bowed and tried to circle James, but he didn't notice the tray and bumped into it. The tray fell down and coffee spilt all over the carpet. He fell on his knees, trying to save everything, but it was too late.

James kneeled by him and caught his wrist.

„Q, let it be. I'll take care of it. Go.“

Oliver looked at him with big deer eyes.

„It's alright, just go.“

He stood up and left the room, mentally kicking himself. This will have consequences.

James stood up and looked at the carpet from above.

„No one can save that,“ M said.

„That was a really expensive one,“ he said without any pity in his voice.

„Who cares?“ she asked. „What is with that boy? He's been acting strange for weeks now.“

James sighed and sat by her on the bed.

„He likes me,“ he said. M raised her eyebrows. „He's afraid he'll go to hell for it“

„Ah,“ she nodded. „Now I understand. We just talked about love.“

„Love? Well that's a bit too strong. But yes, he has a really hard time being around me. A great thing when I have to spend so much time with him because of your ideas, by the way.“

„Is it working?“

„Well he didn't scream at me for a month now, so I guess it does. I still don't know what you want to do with him once he's civilised.“

„I don't want to do anything with him, but he will have a better perspective and chance in life if he acts like people from the higher class. He is intelligent. He could still learn something.“

 

„Happy birthday!“ Eve said happily as she jumped on Oliver's bed and showed him what she was hiding behind her back. A small, black book, without any writing on it. Oliver sat up and stared at her.

„I... Eve...“ he tried to say something, but couldn't pick a thought he wanted to express first. He never had any presents. His favourite nun gave him something sweet every year, but no one else ever made the effort.

„Come on, take it!“ she nudged the book into his hands.

„I... thank you, but... I can't read.“

Her face lost happiness for a moment and she opened her mouth in surprise.

„Oh, I'm sorry!“ she blurted out. „Sorry, I didn't know... wait! I can teach you!“

„You can?“

„Yes! It's easy, really! Alec taught me in a few weeks! And it's really fun. We just need a paper, a pen and ink. I'll go ask master James.“

„Wait!“ he caught her arm as he wanted to stood up. „Don't. I don't want to be any burden... for him...“

„Don't be silly! He has lots of it, he won't mind me borrowing some. Just wait a second.“

She left the book on his mattress and left. He picked it up and opened. The only thing he could do was turn it the right side up. He was afraid it was too much on him – all those signs, he couldn't see any sense in them, any pattern. But it seemed like this house was just full of people that wanted to teach him and of things he didn't know.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late update. I was busy procrastinating. Takes a lots of time. Promise I will try better next time, you will have another chapter this weekend :)

James was walking down the aisle of the cathedral, his steady pace noticed by the few people praying in front of the altar. He found father Mathis under the large, beautiful organ that took a whole wall, as tall as it was, studying a sheet of paper with some notes which James didn't understand. As he came closer, Mathis raised his head.

„James!“ he greeted him silently, but with a warm smile on his lips. „What brings you here?“

„Father Mathis,“ James bowed his head. He was in a bit of a rush, but didn't want to be impolite, so he slowed his breathing and stepped closer to him. “I was hoping you could do me a favour.”

Father Mathis set the paper down on the wooden cover. „Yes?“

James cursed himself for being so straightforward, but he really didn't have much time, so he just gave up his efforts. “I need you to talk to Oliver.”

Mathis just raised his eyebrows. “Is there a particular reason? Any topic I should brighten for him?”

“Yes,” James stepped even closer and bowed his head so he was as close to the father, hoping for confidentiality. “Tell him he is not an abomination just because he has a sexual desire for men.”

Father Mathis' face turned to stone and he recoiled from him.

“I can't do that, James, I am very sorry…”

“Yes, you can. I don't care if it goes against your teaching, I don't care if you don't think it's true, you will do it.”

Mathis set his jaw tight and his eyes went hard.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because if you won't, I'm afraid he will end his life, and if not, he will spend it suffering, trying to lie to himself about his true nature, doing things he hates just to be “normal”, and I know it will make him miserable and no closer to heaven than he is now.”

“I will not help you manipulate a young boy…”

“I am not manipulating anyone!” James had to start whispering, otherwise the whole town would soon know what's going on. “I have a barely adult boy in my house that is sulking with every day, ceasing to speak, eat, sleep. You knew him. Months ago, he would outtalk the queen herself. You care for him. Do the right thing.”

“How can you tell me what is the right thing…?!”

“You can choose – let another human being suffer now and be happy in the afterlife, or let him be happy now and leave the rest for God to decide. And… there will be a generous donation made in the name of my company. You decide if you don't need the money.”

With that he left. He knew his relationship with father Mathis won't be absolutely destroyed. They were both passionate men, although Mathis was doing his best to live a calmed, silent life. He would see reason. Eventually.

 

 

Alec walked into the entrance hall of Solitude just when father Mathis appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Father Mathis!” he called in surprise. “I didn't expect you here.”

“Alec,” Mathis smiled and descended the staircase to stand right opposite to him. “How are you, my boy?”

“Perfect, father, it could not be better,” Alec grinned.

“I am very glad to hear that. I am sorry, but I have to leave now…”

“Father.”

Mathis sighed and after a second of staring at the floor turned and faced James above them.

“James.”

James descended the stairs so he wouldn't have to shout. Mathis' expression was slightly angry, but he locked his eyes with the blue ones.

“Did you talk to him?” James asked.

“Yes. It wasn't a nice conversation. The boy is scared.”

“So you understand why I thought it urgent?”

Reluctantly, Mathis nodded.

“He is alarmingly unwell. I hope that what I said to him will help him. James… if I find out he is unwell because of something else, if there is another cause, I will step in. I hope you know that.”

“I care for all my employees the same. There was never anyone complaining. I hope you know that.”

They were eyeing each other until Alec coughed.

“Father, I am very glad I saw you,” he said to Mathis, who nodded and took it as a goodbye. When he left, Alec raised his eyebrows on James.

“Care to explain?”

“Not particularly. Did you come because of me or Eve?”

“If I ever come, it is because of Eve rather than you,” Alec grinned.

“For someone who claims to like only women, you do like to imagine the two of us having sex.”

Alec shuddered. “Yeah, you'd like that. Keep that thing away from me.”

In that moment, the entrance door opened again and Vesper walked in, accompanied by a clamping sound of her shoes on the tile floor and silent rustling of her expensive dress.

“Oh, look,” Alec said with faked joy. “You can point it that direction!”

“James,” Vesper said with a little smile when she approached them. He smiled back.

“Hi, dear angel!” Alec greeted her with a big grin. She looked at him as if he was rotten food.

“Alec,” she said. “Glad to see your body was still not found in Severn. Hoping for a change any day now.”

“Yeah, you both have wishes I don't see coming true any time soon. So, if you don't mind, there is a woman that doesn't rip hearts just by looking at them in this house, and I believe she wants me naked.”

He saluted them, run up the stairs and turned left, but a sudden noise stopped him. He turned around to see Patricia at the other end of the hall, with a huge basket full of dishes and silverware, trying not to drop it, but balancing it in one hand while closing the kitchen door was too hard for her. He quickly ran to her side and took the basket.

“Oh!” she cried when she saw him. “Thank you so much, Alec. I'm not as young as I used to be. There was a time I could take much more than this.”

“You're a woman, Patricia, you should never carry such heavy objects.”

“Oh, a woman!” she waved her hand dismissively with a warm smile. “In work, there is no place for separating men from women. If it has to be done, it has to be done, by anyone who can.”

Alec helped her carry the basket up the stairs and into the washing room, and then stayed and helped her clean them. Because he would feel bad if he didn't.

 

 

After father Mathis spoke to Oliver, he sat down on his bed and stared into the wall. His mind was racing. First of all – how did the father know about his state of mind? How did he know he needed to talk about it, to make sure he is not going to hell or worse? Maybe God told him…

But everything he said was so new to him. He couldn't quite grasp it. Should he be not concerned with what he feels anymore? But how could he be not, after eighteen years of living with opinions and knowledge, how can he just change his mind so quickly?

The door opened and Eve walked in, dusting her almost white apron. When she saw him, she crossed her hands.

“How is it that you are always free?” she asked.

“Madam sleeps,” he answered, absentmindedly frowning at the same wall.

“What's wrong?” she walked to her bed and sat down. He looked at her, considering.

“Is it a sin if… if a man… likes other men? How she should like women?”

She frowned.

“Well… I don't know. What do you think?”

“I… I thought it is… but father Mathis told me it isn't.”

“Then you should trust him. I'm sure he knows best.”

“But before he said something else. When I was living in the orphanage, he told us it is wrong to… do… anything with another boy.”

Eve sighed and her face became more serious. She leaned closer to him.

“Oliver, do you know what people say about me?”

He looked at her, confused.

“They say I'm just a slave. That I should be owned and beaten. Some say being black is a disease. That I'm stupid, just an animal, and I have no rights as a human being.”

“But that's terrible!” he interrupted her.

“Yes, yes, I know, and here, in this house, no one ever told me that. But outside these walls, people hate me. Just because of how I look. How I was born. People in Solitude have strange opinions, but they are strange, because they never hate people just because they are different. The only thing they will tell you is bad is to be an idiot. They like me better than their white neighbour, because they say he is stupid and I am not. That's what they see in people. And I trust them to be the better people in this community, I trust them to be right.”

Oliver looked at his palms, loosely resting in his lap, and bit his lip.

“Oliver… are you interested in men?” she asked. He wanted to lie, but then decided otherwise. He nodded.

“I don't want to be,” he said.

“Alright,” she shifted in her position. “Have you ever saw a girl naked?”

He looked at her in surprise and shook his head.

“And a boy?”

“Yes, many times.”

“Well, maybe that's it! Maybe if you saw a girl, you'd like her even more! Do you want to try?”

He frowned.

“How?”

Eve stood up started to unlace her apron and then dress.

“What… what are you doing, Eve?”

“Don't worry, I don't mind. Come on, look,” she was naked in a matter of seconds, her clothes lying in a pile around her ankles. He stood up, looking at her naked breasts and stomach, at the black curly hair around her groan and thighs.

“Touch me,” she said tenderly. “Don't be shy, it's fine.”

He reached out and awkwardly ran a hand over her ribs. She shivered, but didn't flinch back.

“Anything?” she asked. He let his hand drop and his eyes looked at her toes.

“No.”

She sighed and put a hand on his shoulder.

“It's alright if you don't like women. Not everyone does. Mister Bond likes everyone and he is still the best man I know. Well,” she smiled lovingly. “The second best.”

After that she bent down to pick up her clothes and started to dress. Oliver sat down, feeling a bit better now that she was going to be dressed, but also worse, because there was no chance he was normal. Eve was the most beautiful woman he knew and he didn't feel even a shred of what he felt with men and mostly, with James.

The door opened when she was just covering her breasts and Alec walked in with a broad smile on his lips. The smile died the second he saw her surprised reaction, as she tried to hurry her dressing.

“Alec,” she said when she saw how his face turned pale, looking at Oliver and her. “Alec, wait, it isn't what you think…”

He just turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Eve quickly laced her dress and ran after him.

“Wait!” she grabbed his hand and turned him around. His expression was murderous.

“What?!”

“I can explain!”

“I don't need you to.”

“Yes, you do! We weren't doing anything! I was helping him.”

“Helping him with what?!” he laughed bitterly. “Lose his virginity?”

“No!” she reached for his face, but he just pulled away. “Listen to me, Alec. I was just trying to… it wasn't sexual. I would never do anything sexual with anyone. I love you.”

“Then what was it?”

“He…” she stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “He doesn't like women, Alec. I just wanted to help him figure out what he really liked. I just showed… just showed him what a woman looks like so he knows… I was just trying to help, I would never…” her voice gave up and her eyes gave away her pain. Alec calmed down and set his jaw, trying to think clearly.

“Do you swear?” he asked her.

“I do. I absolutely do. I love you, Alec. Only you. Please believe me.”

He nodded. “I do. But… Jesus, never do that to me again. I almost died.”

She nodded frantically and kissed him.

“Never.”


	8. Chapter 8

There was a knock on the door.

James looked up from his book, then rose from his arm chair and went to open them. Behind them he found Oliver, looking sheepish and nervous, with a stock of books in his hands. James leaned againt the door frame, the book he's been reading still in his hand.

“Evening, Q. What brings you here?”

Oliver dropped his gaze to the floor. James was already used to his behaviour around him, but he started to miss the boy he took into the house. He couldn't even tease this Oliver, because this Oliver would just tumble like a card house. Blush, lose his breath, open his mouth… James quickly stopped his line of thoughts. Too tempting. It must have been too long since he had a guy in his bed, if he wanted this one.

“Eve sends these books,” Oliver mumbled and extended his full hands a little. “She thanks you and… she wanted me to ask if you could borrow her some more.”

James smiled with one corner of his mouth.

“Eve sends you? That is weird, since she always comes herself.”

Oliver took a deep breath and looked up.

“She… I… she taught me how to read. We both read your books now.”

He looked frightened, like he expected James to be mad.

“She taught you how to read?” James asked curiously. “That is great.”

He stepped away from the door and opened them more. “Come in, take anything you like.”

Oliver stepped inside, relieved and a bit wary, and looked around. James' room was simple, not very big, filled with a few pieces of furniture – an armchair with a little table near by, a sofa and many bookshelves filled with old and new books. 

“Go on, take anything.”

James took the books Oliver came with and showed him to one of the shelves.

“What do you like?” he asked. Oliver shrugged.

“I don't know. It takes me time to even read a page, so I always forget the plot.”

James smirked. Yeah, it will take him few weeks, maybe months, until he can read novels.

“Do you…” Oliver started. “… have something about drawing?”

“Drawing?” James asked, surprised, and looked the shelves over. He then walked to one of them and pulled out one small book.

“This one is not about art, but architecture,” he looked at Oliver to see if he understood. “Drawings of buildings. And here…” he pulled out another one, this time much bigger. “… is art history. You want that?”

Oliver nodded. Anything about art fascinated him. James out the books on the coffee table and looked for something else. Books for Eve. He knew her pretty well by now – she would never admit it, but she enjoyed the one additional romantic novel he always gave her with books about history and science. She was very intelligent. Sometimes he felt sorry for her, because with her skin colour she could never use her knowledge. So he picked the atlas of Africa for her, then a short novel he thought she could like, and went looking for a book he bought for her – easy Spanish. He hoped she could learn another language just with the help of a book.

He was so drawn into the books that he almost crashed into Oliver, who was just reading the names at the backs. James quickly stopped, only five centimetres from the boy, and he could feel him freeze. James was taller than him, almost a head taller, and from his position, all he could focus on was that mop of hair, that dark, curly hair that he sometimes fantasized about. How it would feel to run his fingers through it, grip a handful, pull his head back so he'd have an access to his throat…

A startled moan yanked him to reality and he realised he's not just been fantasizing this time – he was doing it. He… he actually pulled the boy's hair. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the young man's surprised eyes look at him up side down, pupils blown wide, and he was hit with a wave of lust. He hugged Oliver's hip and turned him face to face. Last check if the boy wasn't protesting, and he kissed him.

Oliver's knees went weak and his heart skipped at least four beats. His body was burning, and every part that touched James tingled – he knew he will remember every little touch, everything will be burned in his memory. And the kiss – he couldn't understand. He was tasting another man's mouth, his tongue, his lips, an edge of a stubble, and it wasn't sweet as he heard so many times someone describe it, it wasn't really pleasurable by itself, but he wanted it to last forever, his head was spinning and he could easily never breath if he could just keep on kissing James. His hands fisted in James' shirt and he could feel his strong abdominal muscles, and he suddenly wanted to kiss them, lick every part of his body…

Not one of them heard the knocking. The door opened and Vesper walked in, the hem of her brown dress crossing the doorstep before her, and she froze on the spot when she saw them.

“James?” she said loudly. That did the trick – Oliver jumped away from James and looked at Vesper in horror. James just straightened and winced.

“Hello, Vesper,” he said. He then handed Oliver the books for Eve.

“Take those as well,” he nodded the direction of the coffee table. Oliver quickly took them and left the room, tying not to look at the woman still standing in them. She closed the door and walked towards James.

“I am sorry, Vesper…” he started, but she cut him off.

“Don't. I don't want to hear it.”

She walked over to him and looked him over – his rumpled shirt, red lips, normally a very sexy James, now not so much. And he knew he should save the situation, but on the other hand, he didn't really care, and he knew Vesper could cope. It will take them a few days, but they will forget – she will forget, or won't try to think of it anymore.

“Is it something I miss?” she asked and he frowned.

“What?”

“The boy, does he have something you want that I don't have? Is it his age? His vulgarity? Or vulnerability? Please, don't tell me it's his penis.”

She stopped close to James and ran her hands over his chest.

“Do you want me more wild?” she asked I a seductive purr and he couldn’t help but feel attraction. Oliver left him with an unfulfilled promise of intimacy, and his body needed the closeness Vesper offered.

“I can be filthy,” she whispered and kissed him. He reciprocated and let her believe he was enjoying her more than Oliver, but the truth was – and this shocked him more than anything – that the boy was a much sweeter thing to play with.

He didn't even undress her. He carried her to the coffee table, set her on it, lifted up her skirts and pulled down her stockings and panties. By the time she opened his trousers, he was hard, and one touch told him she was quickly becoming wet. She moaned when he fingered her, thrusting herself onto his hand, and when he finally pulled them out and replaced them with his cock, she locked her legs behind his arse. He fucked her quick and hard, trying to forget his fantasies, trying not to think of the lithe body of the boy, and how he could pull his hair and cut his air with is hand, how Vesper would never allow him to push her into the matrass or fuck her face. And although Oliver as just kissed probably the first time in his life, something was telling James that he would let him do all that and more.

He came into her with a curse. And then, spent and done, he had to go down on his knees and finish her off. And he could just think of the ways he could make that little boy come in the right time, when he wanted, and how he wanted. 

 

 

Oliver left M's room with an empty tray and carried it to the kitchen. M kept asking him, what happened, but he couldn't tell her – he was sure she wouldn't like the news, and he couldn't even think of it without his face going all red. He couldn't even decide if he was ecstatic, frightened, embarrassed or… well, aroused. He didn't know what to do with himself – touching himself was out of the question, since it was a sin. But he also thought that having an erection because of a man is a sin. So now, he was really confused. And anytime he thought about the kiss, he went even more confused.

He left the kitchen in order to go to his room and read the books – maybe that will take his mind off… other things – but he stood dead on the spot when he saw madam Vesper walking to him. He could see her hairstyle was ruffled, and his heart sunk when he understood what that meant.

She walked right to him and her face showed strong distaste and anger. He backed up to the wall, but she followed him, facing him so she could whisper.

“You little skunk!” she said venomously. “Leave this house. Leave this house right now or I will make your life miserable. James doesn't want you here. I don't want you here. If I see your face ever again, you will lose it.”

She left, leaving him with an aching heart and stinging eyes.

Yes. He should leave. What good would come of it if he stayed? He could never look at master James ever again. And madam Vesper hated him, and who knows what James felt towards him – maybe he hated him, too. He should leave. Right now.

 

 

There was a knock on the door.

James looked up from his book, but then dropped his gaze again. No more drama today.

The knock came again, this time more urgent, and he sighed.

“Come in!” he called. The door opened and Eve walked in, her body radiating nervousness.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Sir, I can't find Oliver. All his stuff disappeared, he only left some books on my table.”

James stood up.

“Are you sure? He didn't leave anything behind?”

Eve shook her head.

“No, sir. I think he left. Please, sir, don't let him leave. He can't… it's winter… sir, I'm really worried about him. Something must've happened, because he was fine this morning. Please, can I go look for him?”

“No,” he said and Eve wanted to plead more, but he stopped her with a raised hand. “I will. Find Kincaid and Felix and tell them to do the same, and if Alec comes over, tell him, too.”

He took a coat from the rack near the door.

“And don't worry,” he put a hand on her shoulder while passing her on his way out. “He will be alright.”

She nodded and looked behind him, when he walked down the hall. She finally had a friend and couldn't lose him. Not like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear friends, this story is a pure fiction. I say this for everyone who knows that in Victorian era, this would be almost impossible. We're talking the time when masturbation was a sin and women were supposed to be frigid. Hell, twenty years after this setting, homosexuality was a crime. No condoms and prostitutes were a birth control (don't worry, they had birth control, but I don't think many women used it, since the preferred birth control was abstinence). My characters would have to be freaking geniuses or time travelers to have the opinions they have. Oliver/Q is the most Victorian one in the story, and even he is too ideal. This is a work of fiction. If you want a realistic image of Victorian era's homosexual story, consider this:
> 
> They were gay, but they could never have sex or masturbate, so they married women, they nor the women ever enjoyed the sex, they died, the end.
> 
> (Or, yes, it could be a beautiful story, but oh dear my friends, it would be a DARK, unsatisfying story that would NOT end well.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sososososo sorry that it took me two weeks and the chapter isn't even that long, but there is a lots of work now for me, with my final assignments and The Reverse Big Bang and this... so I know it isn't that big of a treat, but here you go, darlings :)

December was cold and snowy that year, which was very unusual for England. James was one lucky bastard to have his expensive clothes, because even in them, he wasn't very happy. Around him, people in much less lived their every day life, children played in the snow dressed in just a little but more then they've been in summer, and he felt a stab of guilt while looking at them.

Father Mathis didn't know anything about Oliver. And he didn't look very pleased when he found out the boy has left Solitude. James only imagined what the priest must have thought when just a few days after James threatened him to talk to Oliver about his sexuality, he escaped, as if he was tortured in the house, made to have sex with all the men. Well that will help James' reputation.

He searched the city centre, but he couldn't find Oliver anywhere. He really hoped the boy went back to the house or at least will return to the orphanage, or that he is already there and Mathis lied to him. He didn't want to be the reason for his death. The boy didn't even have a coat.

James turned a corner and stood still. There, sitting at a little stone wall opposite to a church, sat Oliver. His old bag sat next to him and the boy had a piece of paper in his lap and was apparently trying to draw the church with a little black pastel. James wondered where he got it.

He walked over to him and sat down right next to his bag. Oliver looked up and his eyes went huge when he saw his master.

„Hi, Q,“ James smiled. „That looks great.“

Oliver looked at his paper and back, confused and little scared. He was freezing, his clothes were wet and his fingers so numb he had problems holding the chalk. He wanted to sell the picture like he used to when he lived in the orphanage, so he could buy something to eat, and if he didn't finish until the sun set, he would go another day without food. He hasn't eaten since he left the house the previous evening.

Something heavy and warm landed on his shoulders and he turned, surprised, to see James wrapping him up in his coat, staying only in a sweater.

„No, sir, please...“ he started to protest, but James took the paper from his hands and buttoned up the coat.

„You're shivering,“ James said. „I don't need it now.“

Oliver resigned, part because he was already melting into the warm fabric. James rolled up the picture and put it into Oliver's bag.

„I am very sorry for what I've done,“ James said after a while. „I didn't think clearly. I never should have kiss you and I won't do it again, if you have a problem with it.“

Oliver raised his head.

„What? No, you didn't... it wasn't your fault. I didn't leave because of you.“

„Then why?“

Oliver tried to come up with an answer that would seem serious enough to be the trigger of an escape, but nothing came up.

„I didn't want madam Vesper to be angry with you. I thought that maybe if I left...“

„You left because of Vesper?“ James frowned. „Did she tell you anything...?“

„No, no! She didn't! It was my decision. I figured... I wouldn't be missed.“

„Well, you are,“ James smiled at Oliver's surprise. „Eve almost went to look for you by herself. Every man in the house is out there, freezing their butts off. I am here. I miss you.“

Oliver's cheeks burned in the cold. He knew James couldn't mean it. He was just trying to take him back, who knows why, but he would never admit he missed Oliver, even if it was true. Still, it was nice to hear those words.

„Q, are you unhappy in my house?“

„No!“ he said quickly, looking James in the eyes. „No, sir, I'm very happy there.“

„Then I ask you to come back.“

„But...“

„No but. I won't let you freeze on the streets. Come on, it's cold and you are still wearing home shoes.“

They stood up, James took the bag and Oliver tried to walk as quickly as him in the big coat, which looked really comical. The black chalk was forgotten in the snow where it fell when James took the paper.

 

Eve almost jumped out of her skin when they came home. James was pretty cold by the time they got there, but he refused every Oliver's attempt at returning the coat, so when Eve saw him, she quickly called for Patricia to make him tea while she herself hugged Oliver for about a minute. Oliver clearly didn't know what do with so much attention, which, James had to admit, was adorable to look at. He took the coat from his shoulders, gave Eve his bag and went up to his room, worrying about Kincaid and Felix, since he had no way of telling them that they didn't have to search the town anymore.

„Oliver, you crazy little...“ Eve mumbled into his hair. „Do you know how scared I was? What happened?“

Oliver drew away from her hug.

„It's not important,” he said dismissively.

“It's very important! And you will tell me!” she threatened with a very serious look.

“Alright… but later. In private.”

That satisfied her.

“Madam M is waiting for you,” she said and by the tone of her voice Q could guess that M had very similar questions. He sighed and nodded. Eve took his bag with her to their room and he went to M's rooms.

He knocked on the door and walked in. M was sitting in her chair, embroidering on her little hoop. When she saw him, she put it on the table and beckoned him to sit down.

She didn't say anything. Oliver sat down and waited for her to ask something, to scold him, but she was silent, staring at him, staring him down. He felt unease.

“I am sorry,” he said. She raised her eyebrows.

“Sorry for what?”

He was confused.

“For leaving,” he said after a while. She bowed her head as if to think about it.

“Oliver, I spent last several hours thinking about a reason that could chase you out from this house. I didn't find anything sufficiently serious, so I came to a conclusion that it must be in your head or that something must have happened. Now tell me.”

Oliver thought about what actually happened and his face reddened when he imagined telling M. But he was crazy if he thought M could let him go with some phrase or blurry answer like James did.

“I… I don't…”

“You won't leave this room until I know the truth, Oliver, you can count on that.”

He sighed. He was still cold and his shoes were wet and he needed to pee. This could stretch to hours if he refused, he knew that. So he prepared for the worst and started talking.

When he was done, M looked almost the same as before, but now, Q could see murder in her eyes. He wasn't sure if that murder was meant for him.

“I want you to be very careful around my son,” she said. “He doesn't always understand the impact that his actions have on other people's lives. And I want you to come to me with any problem you have, and if anyone threatens you again, understood?”

He nodded.

“Great. Now leave, you look like death itself. Come back tomorrow, today spend in bed with tea and biscuits.”

At the end of her speech, he felt like there was a smile somewhere in her words, but it was so hidden he couldn't be sure. He left her rooms and went to his and Eve's room, mentally preparing himself to tell the story again.

 

 

James went to his office. He hadn't slept, which made it that much harder for him to pay attention, but he couldn't ignore certain duties he had. The day was hectic as his work could be, and at the end, he was glad he didn't have to go far to be home.

Vesper entered his office in the evening when everything was dark, carrying a tray of tea. She set it on his table and smiled, then circled him and started to massage his shoulders. He couldn't enjoy it, so he just cut her off.

“I'm going home,” he said. She stopped her massage and nodded, which he couldn't see. Then she took the tray and went to the door.

“Q is back home,” he said and watched her reaction. She stopped and turned around, a very subtle mix of emotions on her face.

“I don't ever want you to threaten anyone in my house, is that understood?” he asked and she wanted to protest, to defend herself, but he didn't let her. “Any problem you have with anyone, you discuss with me. And just so you now, I was the one taking initiative. I kissed him. If you want to be mad, be mad at me.”

Her lips tightened into a line.

“Don't bother visiting at Christmas,” he stood up.

“But James…”

“I said,” he looked right at her. “Don't.”

He left the office and went home while she almost threw the tray against a wall.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe this. I have reached new horizons of procrastination. This story has been opened at least a hundred times this past month and I have tried so hard. And that's just half of it, I did another half of it today. I just had the hardest time writing the start, and it is written sooooo poorly... so yeah, sorry. At least it's 3000 words. More than usually. Have great holidays, whatever you celebrate!

Christmas was always Oliver's favourite holiday. The church had always more money and could afford to feed the children in the orphanage. The streets were beautiful and people had more to spend, so he sold his pictures on the street and to the little shop near the river. It was too cold for him to stay out more than a couple of hours, but he liked the atmosphere.

This year, he didn't go to the streets. He didn't have to. The house had its own atmosphere, after Kincaid hung some decorations, and he wasn't in any need for money. There was always plenty of food; Patricia would never let them starve. His life was great. And he hasn't seen madam Vesper in a week, since he came back. Which was even better.

The Christmas Eve was wonderful. He and Eve were helping Patricia from the early morning, cooking a huge dinner for everyone. Oliver has never seen so much food together, and so good – cakes, biscuits, meat, potatoes, fish… he wondered if they could eat it all. He never ate more than a plate of food in his life. But he knew that there will be people coming to the dinner from outside the house as well – Alec, surely, and probably Vesper as well. His legs got weak at the thought of being in the same room as her. Maybe he won't have to be – who knows if they will be allowed to dine with the family and their friends. No one told him specifically.

When he told Eve what happened, she almost exploded with rage. She said she always hated Vesper and Oliver was almost certain she had to tell Alec, and he felt so embarrassed. But a part of him felt misplaced pleasure. He wasn't the only one hating her.

When the dinner was ready, Patricia all sent them to get ready. Oliver dressed into his best clothes – Eve was in town with him and helped him pick up nice trousers and a shirt. Oliver had lots of money now that he was working in Solitude, and no need for spending them, since he ate and slept in the house. So they bought presents and then Oliver went alone again to buy Eve a book. It was a beautiful edition of Pushkin's The Queen of Spades. He knew Eve loved poetry and hoped she would like it. It was the most expensive gift of them all and he was left with almost no money after purchasing it. But it was worth it.

Now he dressed himself in those new clothes and waited for Eve. She was dressed in simple cream dress, nothing like what Vesper wore, but it made her even more beautiful than she normally was. She tied her hair to a bun and smiled at Oliver.

“Don't be scared,” she told him. “It's going to be a great evening. Take the presents now, we will give them after the dinner.”

They went to the living room. It was a huge, almost never used room where Oliver was only once before. It had big windows that were now dark, and under them a table for ten people. The right side of the room dominated a tree that reached the ceiling. Oliver never saw anything like it.

He placed the presents under the tree and looked at Eve who showed him to the sofa. He sat beside Patricia. The cook was dressed in a dress that looked old, but well maintained, and she was already looking happy. She greeted him with a hug.

“Merry Christmas, Oliver,” she smiled at him and he smiled back.

“Merry Christmas, Patricia.”

Felix was in the other sofa and Eve joined him and gave him a big hug. Oliver often forgotten Felix was Eve's father. Grasping that people had parents was still odd for him. 

The door opened and Kincaid walked in and Oliver almost laughed, because his suit was probably as old as him and very funny. He sat t the end of the sofa so Kincaid could sit with Patricia, and started to look around him, trying to do SOMETHING. He didn't feel good. This was too foreign for him, and quite uncomfortable when he imagined he will be in one room with the masters of this house for hours. He wondered if M will be here. She never left her room, but maybe Christmas was an exception? And he would be asked to be with her if it wasn't, or at least bring her the dinner.

Soon his question was answered when the door opened and M walked in holding James' arm. Oliver immediately stood up to let them sit down and James smiled at him. Oliver felt his heart skip a beat.

“Merry Christmas,” James said to everyone and M did the same with a genuine smile. They all answered. Oliver sat down next to Eve.

At first the atmosphere was tense, unfamiliar, but after some minutes the conversations started to loosen up. Oliver was asked some questions, but he didn't find it in himself to be talkative. He wondered what happened to him. A year ago he would talk without filter, saying everything on his mind, being cocky and cheeky and aggressive. That was who he was back then and he thought it would never change. So why did it? Now, he was quite, humble even, and he didn't know why. Maybe because he felt so good with these people. He didn't want to fight them. He wasn't expecting an attack from every side.

When the door opened for the last time, they all turned their head, forgetting who was missing. Alec walked in, his hair dripping wet from snow. Eve stood up abruptly, looking at him as if she didn't dare do more, but wanted to. He looked at her and his expression changed to subtle adoration and… love. He crossed the room, took her in his arms and kissed her.

Some voices chuckled, some people politely turned away. Oliver looked at James sitting across from him and saw the man looking up at the couple with a mild, genuine smile. Then he looked at Oliver and held his gaze for seconds until Oliver lowered his eyes. His cheeks were burning.

When Alec and Eve parted, they all moved to the table and Patricia with Oliver started bringing everything from the kitchen. Oliver took the turkey and was trying to open the door when they opened by themselves and James entered. He smiled at him and took the tray from his hands.

Oliver hated that man. Why was he so perfect? Yes, he tended to be an arsehole at occasions, but mostly it was this surprisingly great man who helped his servants and didn't see them as something lower. Oliver was falling in love with him more every day and that was not a good thing, considering that he already loved him the first week he arrived to this house.

They all sat around the table and ate. Oliver was sitting right next to Alec who was paying all his attention to Eve, Eve was trying to talk to her father as well as her lover, and on Oliver's other side sat James – fortunately not right next to him, but at the end of the table, facing at the other end.

The food was delicious and Oliver was soon too full to continue. He tried to make his portions small, but Patricia would always step in and persuade him to take more, and his instincts to never leave food on the plate were just too strong. After the soup and the turkey he saw double and his stomach hurt and when she wanted to serve the dessert, he looked at her in horror, which made James laugh.

“Let the poor boy be, Pat,” he said with a warm smile. “I can't believe he ate so much already, with his figure. You will stuff him to his heels.”

Oliver blushed and didn't know if he should take it as an insult or a compliment. He was feeling heavy and slightly sick and debated excusing himself to go lie down, but fortunately the supper was over soon and they all got to walk around the room, sit in the sofas, and it wasn't just Oliver who felt like fainting. The only people unaffected were James, who didn't eat a lot, and Alec, who ate the most and claimed to be bottomless. They walked outside to smoke and others sat and talked inside.

“Eve?” Oliver asked when they were seated alone on the sofa. “Why doesn't Alec marry you?”

“He wanted to,” she said. “We talked about it. And it would be the right thing to do. But he is a wealthy man and if I married him, I couldn't keep working here. I don't want to be like that, you know? Sitting at home, bossing servants around… that's not my place. And he understands and says it is only this country and classy people that are obsessed with marriage. His parents weren't married.”

“Just see to marry him when you're old,” M said from the other sofa and they both turned to her. “In certain point of your life sitting at home is the most desirable thing.”

“I didn't mean…” Eve said startled.

“Don't worry, I didn't take it personally. Sometimes I thought about the way Alec's people live. Maybe it isn't that wrong. God knows I would have left my husband if I could. And they can.”

The room felt silent after this. They all tried not looking at each other, the tension building.

“Oh for God's sake, breathe!” M said impatiently. “Being closed in a room for years did great job on my social conventions, you should try it sometimes.”

Eve broke into laughter. The tension eased. When James and Alec came back, they were already talking again.

“So, should we cut to the main program?” Alec asked, going to Eve.

“If you're going to sing carols, I will personally shoot you with that gun I bought you,” James said grumpily and sat down next to M. Alec wiggled his eyebrows on him.

“I, of course, meant giving the presents, which is the only reason I'm here.”

“Oh, is that so?” Eve raised her eyebrows.

“Yes,” he leaned to her. “And shush, presents don't talk.”

Eve blushed. It was hard to tell in the light and with her brown skin, but Oliver knew her pretty well to see it. He wondered if he ever found love like theirs and his heart ached. He looked at James. No, he couldn't see himself ever happy with someone. Not now and not after James. He couldn't see any after.

He felt awkward when they started handing the presents. He didn't know what to give to people in this house. Patricia was easy – something pretty for a woman. Eve was easy, because he knew her. Felix as well, because Eve knew him. And everything made Kincaid happy. But James and M were terrible and Eve told him to just forget about Alec. She had to spend majority of her money to buy him something he would really appreciate. So Oliver decided to get them something he couldn't buy and right now he felt like it was the biggest mistake of his life.

He gave Patricia new apron, Kincaid a knife, Felix a new hat, he listened to their thanks and how he shouldn't have and then they gave him little things he appreciated more than anything. And then he walked to James and M at the sofa, leaving the book for Eve to be a band aid for his feelings.

“I… I didn't know what to get you,” he started shyly, looking at his feet. He was holding two rolls of paper. James and M were holding back, understanding that they all needed some space and time with their close friends and families. Oliver thought that was a little sad. However friendly they were with their servants, they were still aside.

“You didn't have to get us anything,” M said warmly. “We don't expect that you spend the money we give you on us.”

Oliver blushed. Well, maybe it is good he didn't buy them anything.

“I… I didn't buy this,” he said and looked at them. “It's no good and you can burn it, but…”

He handed them the rolls. They were quite big, he spent a few nights with them, trying to make them as professional as he could with the little he had, but it still wasn't a framed painting and he knew that. It was a picture that people in the town would buy to hang in their kitchen.

They spread it on their knees with curious expressions and Oliver watched as they froze in awe. They were looking at their own portraits. M's was quite close to the truth, Oliver knew her enough to draw from memory, but James'… James' was absolutely exact. He drew him so many times he knew every wrinkle on his face. He knew how his stubble grew when he let it and knew what his pupils looked like in light. Now he felt like James was staring at a part of his soul and he suddenly realized that there was another reason why this wasn't a good idea.

“Oliver, this is beautiful,” M said. He looked at her in surprise. Was she trying to make him feel good? Did she mean it?

“Absolutely incredible,” James said very silently and Oliver didn't dare looking at him. He fought his every instinct, knowing he couldn't take what he'd see. Instead he looked at M who was stroking her own face on the paper with a wrinkled finger.

“This is a beautiful present,” he looked up at Oliver. “Thank you.”

He smiled and nodded. When he turned, James' voice stopped him from leaving.

“I have something for you as well,” he said and Oliver turned in disbelief. Eve told him M and James never give out presents because they rather give them bonus money so they could buy what they want the most. So when James turned to retrieve his coat hanging from the back rest and reached into his big pocket, he couldn't believe his eyes. The blond man took out a rolled leather wrap and handed it to him. Oliver stared at the high quality material.

“I don't understand these things, but the man in the shop told me this is something every artist could use. I hope it will be any good.”

Oliver unrolled the wrap in his hands and found a set of brushes, pens, pencils and accessories. He opened his mouth and found his throat dry and his eyes wet.

“I…” he pushed out of himself. “Thank you.”

He had to leave. He quickly turned and walked to his spot next to Eve. He wanted to properly thank, but first – he had no idea what would be enough to express his gratefulness and second – he wanted to hug the man and cry on his shoulder and he was sure that would destroy his life. So he closed the wrap with shaky fingers and quickly picked up the book and turned to Eve.

“I hope you will like it,” he said, handing it to her. She looked at the cover and covered her mouth in affection.

“Oh god, Oli, thank you!” she threw herself at him and hugged him. “Here, I asked around and this is what one guy told me to buy,” she gave him a small book with a brush on the cover. He smiled at her.

“Thank you, it's great.”

 

When Oliver left, M turned her attention on her son.

“He is hurting, James,” he said. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed deeply.

“I know.”

She rolled the paper.

“Well, I am exhausted. I am going to sleep. Excuse me if they ask about me.”

He nodded and she slowly left. Her place took Alec, spreading himself over the sofa like a king, grinning at James like a big cat.

“You like him,” he said when James raised his eyebrows at him in a question. He just shook his head.

“Oh, come on, it's as clear as day.”

“Then look outside, it's foggy all the time and gets dark after four.”

Alec laughed and shook his head.

“So tell me, is it just affection or are you seriously in…”

“Say that and I will actually break your neck,” James growled. Alex chuckled again.

“Alright, then why don't you just shag him? You will get it out of your system and he will get a nice Christmas present. Where's the harm? It helped you with Eve. By the way I still want to kick you in the nuts.”

James looked at Oliver, talking to Eve.

“Maybe… no. It would destroy him.”

“No it wouldn't. He would probably appreciate it as well. Maybe he will find out what a muff you are in bed and grow out of it.”

James gave him a jaded look.

“No, seriously,” Alec said, straightening up. “Maybe he needs the same. To get you out of his system. But when I look at him… nah, maybe you couldn't get him.”

James frowned at him.

“What are you talking about? He is crazed by me. I could have him in a minute.”

“James, he is an orphan raised by nuns with a priest as a father figure. Few weeks ago he thought he is possessed by demons because he liked you. You have no chance.”

James looked a bit uncertain after this.

“Listen, I can bet you he will run screaming if he even sees you naked,” Alec said.

“Oh, really?” James looked at him and Alec saw he was hooked. “I think it would go little differently.”

“Ten pounds begs to differ,” Alec smirked.

“Ten pounds,” James extended his hand and Alec shook it.

“You have three days,” Alec said.

“I don't need them.”

“Just to be sure,” Alec tapped his shoulder and stood up to go to Eve. After he left, James looked at Oliver, so shy and so happy and so fragile, and he wondered if any of Alec's words were true.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I have forgotten Gareth. I have forgotten a character. Someone kill me. Someone just... kill me now. Such a promising character and he is gone. If I don't find him a reason to disappear for ten chapters, he is gone. So sorry.
> 
> Now good news! It's over my assignment period, so for a few months I should be able to write more again :) right now I'm off to write a bit of smut :3 very very smut, brace yourselves :3

Eve closed the door behind Alec, then locked. They left from the Christmas dinner when it was just James and Felix with Kincaid and Patricia, and went to Alec's room. She turned to him, full of anticipation.

„Yes,“ she said. Alec turned around, frowning in confusion.

„Did I ask something?“ he asked with a wave in the general direction of the hall. „*Am I going senile? Already?“

She laughed and walked closer to him.

„Yes,“ she said again, articulating very precisely. „I do,“ she continued and he narrowed his eyes. „I,“ she grabbed his collar. „... do,“ she kissed him. „... marry you.“

His eyes widened and he grasped her arms in incredolous shock, while she laughed happily.

„You do?!“ he asked, his voice full of joy and hope. She just nodded frantically.

„I decided today. But I stay here and will keep on working for the family.“

He looked like he was considering it and then tipped his head.

„Half – half,“ he said. „Three days here, four at home.“

„Four here,“ she said. He sighed.

„Fine, you are the queen. Oh my god, I love you so much,“ he said with a happy grin. „And that makes this,“ he reached into his trousers pocket and pulled out something small. He held it in front of her eyes. It was a small box. He opened it and revealed a beautiful ring – very simple, white gold, runs circling it. „... an engagement ring.“

She covered her mouth.

„I know you like simple things.“

It was true. Eve disliked jevelery and liked only some pieces and this...“

„It's perfect,” she said with tears forming in her eyes.

“I'm glad you like it,” his voice dropped with true affection. He took the ring out of the box and put it on her finger, then kissed her with so much tenderness she almost melted.

They fell into Alec's bed, he lost the box in the process. Alec slowly undressed his fiancée, then thoroughly worshiped her body like he hasn't done that a million times. Eve let him, but after a while she undressed him and made him wish he could keep her in his bed forever.

“U love you,” they whispered through the night.

But the night ended too soon.

They lied in the rising sun, lazily entwining their fingers and talking.

“I bet James to fuck Q,” Alec said suddenly. She looked at him in horror.

“What?” she asked.

“Don't worry, it sounds much worse than it actually is,” he quietened her.

“I do hope so,” she said seriously. “He can't be played with like this. He is too fragile…”

“Shhh,” he shushed her tenderly. “I know what I'm doing. James is in love with him.”

“What?” she asked with a frown.

“I know him. I know how he looks at people he wants to fuck. That was no hungry look. He doesn't look at people like this. He wants to protect the boy, he only agreed to the bet because I provoked him – never tell a guy he can't do something, he will do anything to prove you wrong. They just need a push.”

She settled, but stayed wary.

“I hope you're right,” she said. “James could destroy Oliver.”

“He cares very much for those he loves,” Alec said reassuringly. “I am a living example.”

 

James sent everyone to sleep after he convinced Patricia to leave everything be and that she can clean in the morning, and then went to his own room. He spent his whole evening thinking of that bet he made with Alec. Should he do it? Could he do it? Morally, no. The idea just disgusted him. The boy was already too traumatized and hurt, by him also, sometimes just by his existence. James wouldn't give him more than one night. Actually, he could give him more. He could even stay with him for some time, months even, but he knew he couldn't give him as much time as the boy wanted. Q wanted a lifetime - at least he thought so in his love-struck state – and James knew himself enough to know he could never give him his life. He struggled even with the vision of Vesper being his wife, and he knew he really should grow accustomed to it. He should get married and have kids that will take over when he's too old to manage the company. Which should rather be bloody soon, because he was already tired of the fucking masquerade.

He thought of this while walking to his room. He passed Q and Eve's room and stopped. He knew Eve would be with Alex, the was no doubt in that. And Q would be alone. Does he sleep by now? Is he up? Is he thinking about him? Is he… dreaming about him? James did, a few times – dream about Q. Sometimes it was decent, just a glimpse of the boy; sometimes it was much more.

Before he knew what he was doing, he opened the door. He forgot to knock and was rewarded by a sight of dreams – Q's naked back, boyish features in pale skin. He had his pajama trousers on, low on his hips, and James wondered what was under…

Q turned his head, probably expecting Eve, and stopped dead. He slowly turned and James had to swallow at the sight of his dark nipples and flat stomach with fading happy trail of black hair. The boy was so perfect… and yet James had to stop himself. So fragile – on the inside and on the outside. He had to protect him.

“Good night,” he said almost in whisper and found that in spite of all the saliva he had in mouth, his throat was dry. Then he quickly back away and closed the door.

He had to restrain himself. This will be a good training, he told himself. A good training for his married life, when he will have to be faithful to one woman. Vesper. 

 

 

Eve was not ready for her morning shift. Alec made her stay in the bed for additional half an hour, whispering how she will never need to get up this early in the morning when they're married, and she started to like that idea.

Finally, she got up from the bed and just in a towel quickly ran to her room to change. She found Oliver already dressed and ready for bringing M her breakfast.

“Good morning!” she greeted him happily and then she couldn't resist. “I am engaged!” 

His expression changed from his recently usual darkness into surprised and happy, although she could tell there was something wrong.

“Wow, congratulations!” he said and hugged her. “I thought you didn't want to leave, but…”

“No, no, I won't leave! I will live with Alec, but still work here, don't worry.”

“Oh, that is even better! Great. Um… I really would love to stay and celebrate, but M is waiting for me…”

“Oli, what is wrong?” she asked, trying to push her emotions away. The boy was depressed again, she could tell.

“Nothing,” he tried to smile at her, but that didn't fool her. He sighed. “Alright, something. But you can't change it.”

“Is it James?” she asked and he winced. “It is.”

“He… no. It's not his fault. He was just being nice, really. I just can't take how nice he is.”

She had to bite her tongue not to say anything. He left shortly after and she stayed there, thinking of how James was not supposed to be nice if it was just to win the bed. If this was already hurting Oliver, what would happen if James pretended any feelings for him? What will Oliver do when James tries to get him to bed?

She sighed and sat on her bed. Three days. After that, James will stop. And until that… well, we'll see.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two months. Two whole months have I been silent with this story. Someone kill me. I am terribly sorry.

Oliver knocked on madam M's door and waited a few seconds, half awaiting an answer. M was a creature of habit – she spent almost every afternoon in the front room of her little kingdom, mostly embroiling, but only answered the door when she felt like it, and Oliver still hasn't figured out the pattern by which she did. Now there was no answer, so he simply opened the door – he always did unless told otherwise. He carefully stepped through into the room, minding the tray with lunch in his hands, and once inside he looked up to greet M. But she wasn't there.

Confused, he placed the tray on the table.

“Madam?” he called. No answer. He went to the door leading to her bedroom and knocked on them, but no one invited him in. Oliver hesitated, but then slowly opened the door.

The bed was empty, still as he left it in the morning after M woke up. He searched the room and froze.

She lay on the floor next to her bed. Dressed in her night gown, face down, M was lying there as if dead, and Oliver's heart froze when he saw her. Panic spread through his body. What to do? Who to call? James was still in his office in the other part of the house; Kincade was strong enough to carry her, but not to do much more… he needed a doctor, but first to make sure M was even alive…

He quickly knelt by her side and tenderly turned her on her back. She was pale, but when he tried her pulse, he could feel it. Relief made him see double. He stood up and ran find any man in the house.

Felix was in the kitchen, eating a soup. Oliver quickly told him what's happened and while Felix ran to the bedroom, Q left the house. He never was in the other part, the one belonging to the firm, but the dead was miraculously empty – he didn't meet anyone on his way out. So he ran through the front door and up, asking people directions as he passed them, finally stopping in the anteroom of James' office, where Vesper sat at her desk.

“What do you want here?” she asked, shocked.

“Is mister Bond here?” he asked, panting.

“Yes, he is, but you cannot see him!” she stood up and walked to him, making herself a shield parting him and the office door. “Not looking like this, anyway! Have you any idea…?”

“Madam, please! I need to see him! It's urgent!” he tried to walk past her, but she grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

“What do you think…” she started, but was interrupted by the door behind her. James stepped out of his office, frown on his face.

“What is going on in here?” he asked.

“Sir!” Oliver quickly spoke, cutting off Vesper's rambling about how this little kid… “Madam passed out! She needs a doctor!”

James' eyes widened and he wanted to run.

“Sir, no!” Oliver jumped in front of him. “Felix is taking care of her, the doctor!”

James seemed to shake himself mentally, trying to think, and then nodded.

“Vesper, call for Doctor Linberg, tell him it's an emergency and to be in my mother's room at once. Q, come on,” he left the room and Oliver ran behind him.

“What happened?” James asked on the stairs.

“I brought her her lunch and found her on the floor in her bedroom,” he answered. “She has pulse, but is very pale… I have no idea what is wrong with her.”

James nodded, walking quickly through the garden. Oliver found out he had to run to keep up with him.

M was already in her bed and Patricia was there, covering her forehead in a wet cloth. She looked up with a worried expression. James sat down on the other side of the bed, watching his mother.

“How is she?” he asked. Patricia looked down.

“Not well,” she said. “She hasn't woken up yet.”

James winced. That wasn't a good sign.

“When did any of you see her the last time?” he asked.

“I did,” Olive said. “This morning when I came here with breakfast. She looked alright. And she was in her normal clothing.”

James frowned and just now looked closer on the night gown.

“She must have felt it coming,” Patricia said. “Maybe wanted to lie down for a moment.”

James sighed and rubbed his face. Oliver wanted to hug his tense shoulders, but the inappropriateness would be shocking, so he settled on looking out of the window. He was relieved a few minutes after when a cart drove into the garden through the main entrance and Doctor Linberg jumped out, hurrying to the house.

“I'll go meet him,” Oliver said and walked into the hall. Linberg was a family doctor, he knew the house well and knew where to go, but it was always polite to accompany him. Oliver showed him to the room and left when he asked everyone to leave him alone with the patient.

“Sir, if you want, I can tell madam Vesper you won't be coming back,” Oliver offered, though he really dreaded doing so.

“No,” James shook his head, though he looked hesitant. “I should go back.”

“Sir,” Patricia touched his arm and made him look at her. “The doctor will want to speak to you, and I am sure madam will wake up soon. Until then, why don't you rest? You wouldn't want to run from your office every ten minutes. We need you here.”

He smiled at her weakly and Oliver could see relief in his expression. He wondered if Patricia was saving him from something he didn't like. If his work was so unpleasant.

“You are right, Pat. Thank you. Q, you can do as you offered. I will be in my room if anyone looked for me.”

They nodded and went, everyone in a different direction. Oliver braced himself, walking up the stairs a few minutes later.

Vesper sat behind her desk, writing. He knocked on the door and she looked up, and her expression went cold.

“Madam, mister Bond wanted to let you know he won't be coming back today,” he said quickly and turned to leave.

“Wait,” her voice stopped him and he inhaled and faced her.

“Yes, madam?” he asked. She stood up and walked to him.

“What happened today,” she said slowly. “… can never happen again. You were rude to me. You may be under some ill-spirited protection of James, but that doesn't make you any more than you are, and a filthy boy like you will behave when speaking to an authority. Is that clear?”

He quickly nodded. He considered apologizing and explaining the situation, but then decided against it, knowing that Vesper will hate him either way, and talking would just expand his stay. So he waited until she let him go and then, slowly this time, left the building.

When he opened the door to the kitchen, he found Eve looking distressed, and Patricia was clearly just explaining what happened.

“Where were you?” he asked.

“Doing the laundry,” Eve said, apologizing, though she had nothing to apologize for.

“Is anything new?” he asked Patricia.

“Yes, the doctor already left. He said it was a heart attack. Madam is still asleep, but she should be alright. She needs rest, so you have to keep her in her bed, understood?”

He nodded. “Is it dangerous?”

“What, a heart attack?” she asked. A kettle started to whistle and she quickly went for it. “It is, yes. It could be deadly. But, fortunately, this one wasn't. Madam can recover from it, but in her age… well, it isn't a good sign.”

He sighed and sat down.

“Don't sit,” Patricia said, setting a tray on the table. “I need you to take this to mister James. He is in his room. Don't spill!”

He took the tray and carried it to James' door. After three knocks he heard soft call in, opened the door and found the head of the house slouched in his armchair.

“Patricia sent me with tea,” Oliver said and closed the door behind himself. James raised his head.

“Q.”

That one letter made Oliver strangely shaken. He put the tray down on the table near the book shelves and looked at James. His heart ached for the sad man. Just two days after Christmas and he had to bear such a punch from life. He didn't deserve this.

“Are you alright, sir?” he asked. James sighed and rubbed his face.

“No, not really. But it's nothing much, don't worry. It just made me think.”

Oliver came to him and hesitantly did what he wanted to do before in M's bedroom – hugged the man's broad shoulders with his long-fingered palms. James tipped his head up and looked at the boy with his blue eyes, somehow incredulous, struck, but something in that expression was so glad and relieved Oliver knew he was doing the right thing. He crouched down, his hands automatically slipping to James' back and arm.

“She will be alright,” he said. “She is so much stronger than we will ever be.”

James touched his cheeks, his gaze changing into adoration.

“You really are an angel,” he said silently. Oliver could feel his cheeks go red.

“Sir, I… I don't want to…”

“Shhhh,” James said, tugging at the hem of Oliver's shirt and guiding him so he would sit on his lap. “Just let me.”

He watched Oliver as if he were a masterpiece. Stroked his cheeks, neck, chest, and Oliver was sure he must be redder than a setting sun, and just as hot. His heart kept slamming against his ribcage so hard he could hear it.

“I shouldn't,” James whispered. “I should send you away, miles from me, behind the sea even, just so you couldn't tempt me…”

“Don't send me away!” Oliver caught his hand in sheer panic.

“Can't you see what I do?” James' voice sounded broken. “I'll destroy you just because I can't control myself! All your naivety and innocence.”

Q wanted to shout that he didn't want to be innocent anymore, that James could destroy him completely, but a knock on the door stopped him. Before they could react, the door opened and Eve walked in, her gaze immediately setting on them and her face hardening.

“Sir,” she said coldly. “Madam has woken up. Thought you would like to know.”

James nodded and made them both stand up, then quickly walked away, avoiding looking at either of them. Eve followed him and Oliver felt like he just betrayed her and made a fool of himself. Because he did, didn't he? He was still acting like a stupid child, complicating their lives when they already weren't very simple. 

But when he tried to apologize to Eve two hours later, he was surprised by her reaction.

She sat him down on her bed and spoke in the most tender voice he knew she was capable of.

“Oli, I know that mister Bond was very nice to you these last couple of days,” she said. “And I know how you feel about him, and that is alright!” she added, because Oliver wanted to say something and they both knew what that something would be. “No, really, Oli, that is not the problem, and I wouldn't tell you anything at all if… well, if I didn't know why he is doing it. Oli… mister James is a good man. I knew him long enough to know that. But he sometimes doesn't understand himself and can be very untactful towards others.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked with a frown. Eve sighed.

“Oli, I am so sorry… but James and Alec made a bet. He is trying to have sex with you to win it.”

Something hard and cold punched him in the chest. His eyes filled with tears. Of course that's why, what else could make… what else would make such a man…

“Oliver!” Eve hugged him when she saw how much that information hurt him. “I am so sorry, so very sorry… but trust me, if he succeeded, you would feel so much worse.”

“I know,” he choked out. But it hurt so much… it was so long ago that he felt this way, this betrayed, deceived, hurt. He felt like a victim. And he hated that. This was why he spent his life at the home pretending to be a heartless cocky bastard, because those don't get hurt. Now he abandoned the act, slowly left his attitude that saved him so many times before, and it ended… terrible.

Employer or not, James Bond was his enemy now. Oliver was stupid. He acted like a love struck virgin, worshiping the ground that Bond stepped on, being this little fragile boy for his master, but that's a history now. He missed being a prat. He's going to show this idiot what's in him.


End file.
